Re-Route
by Resting-Madness
Summary: Having gotten into trouble at his old job, Mello has been transferred to a new state where he'll resume working. Only thing is that something is weird about the town and its starting to affect him like it has all the others. MattxMello
1. Moved

Disclaimers: I don't own Death Note characters. I don't own anything mentioned in Silent Hill, they belong to their creators. I also would like to add that I make no profit off this work of fanfiction its just for fun. DUH!

Warning: Violence, gore, a little nausea.

Author's Note: This ties in with another story I did, also a S.H. cross over but that's been posted by a friend of mine because I wasn't sure if I wanted an account here. So if you see it, go nuts man, read it. Also this has two endings, because any good silent hill has multiple endings.

...

The sun is setting now. Mello had yet to leave the diner he had resided in since lunch that afternoon. And he wasn't even sure as to why. It's not as if he'd been fired from his job or anything. Maybe it's the fact that he felt he'd simply been removed from his own city that has him so thoughtful then. But whatever the reason, he'd planted tightly until yet another person throws him to the door. The crowd was talkative around the room, everyone happy and enjoying their meals, while the cheeseburger and fries he doesn't even recall ordering for dinner grew less apparent to him as they got cold, the wafting scent brought on by its grilled or fried warmth having died away.

'A list of complaints,' Mello thought with a scoff on his lips. 'What neanderthal complains about how their trash gets picked up?'

1. Mr. Keehl picks and chooses which bags of trash to take.

2. He tosses the receptical carelessly about the neighborhood, leaving them to roll around in the streets getting in the way of cars and making it hard for owners to identify their property.

3. Mr. Keehl doesn't always come on the correct days so cans are moved back towards the house; then he'd ride by ignoring them a job that he knows needs to be done.

And the list went on and on. In Mello's defense, yes, he did do a lot of the things mentioned in the filed complaint. But he did them with good reason. Should he be asked to touch filthy garbage bags that are leaking, encrusted with maggots, or filled with holes? No. Should he pick up the garbage that's spilled out of bags off the street, on the days he did decide to be a nice guy, and toss the hole filled sacks into the back of the truck? No. The home owner could just pick it up and put it into another bag for another day. Why complain like a whining brat instead of seeing that your complaints can be resolved simply by fixing the problem to prevent the problems. No one ever sees logic. They only wanna wave a flag of authority to show they can take from you and get what they want. So screw them. Let them have a new garbage man if they want one. Mello won't miss their scruntiny- if he ever would bat a lash over it in the first place. He had better things to do with his time than to care about the satisfaction of his customers. But this place, Silent Hill, its in another state. He'd have to move and he doesn't want to move, and there sits the problem with the transfer. He could take it in stride: "fuck you and who cares anyway", he could say to them. Or he could go hog-wild on their asses and give a new name to Going-Postal.

Taking a deep breath he looked down at his meal which has begun to resemble food that's been defrosted in a microwave. Casting his teal gaze then to a clock designed as a cat holding a knife and fork, he checked the time. '6:40.' Standing, he dropped some bills onto the table then left the diner.

It would do him some good to check out locations in this place since he has to move. Hopefully it wasn't too far in Sticksville or anywhere like it. He had yet to even pack for this transfer; it wasn't valid until Monday and it being Saturday he figured he'd take his time finding a place to live. He only has to drive up and get a truck to take around the area he's assigned to. If he needed to stay a night he'd get a hotel room or even stay at the dump. They have shacks with couches and things, he'd be quite comfortable and he'd slept on much less and made it through the night. Mounting his motorcycle, his weight barely acknowledged by the vehical, Mello turned the key then reved the engine. Removing the kick stand with the back of his foot, he moved down the street to his apartment.

Darkness covered the city but it only seemed to make its inhabitants more lively as the hustle and bustle of city life moves about doing errands or going to work. Subways are entered and exited, businesses never saw an end to customers as the flow of people kept coming in. Mello took in what little he could see of the city as he whipped through it on his motorcycle. Could he give all this up? Maybe he should just quit and find a new job. At least then he can stay.

'Hn. Guess transfering me is a way of cleaning up the city.' He thought with a smirk on his lips.

Oh the irony of his thought when he'd just passed by a man mugging a woman who he'll, undoubtedly, rape afterward. There were far worse people in this world than a picky garbage man. But if this is the way it is, this is the way it will be. Can't fight demons, so fight minions instead. Pathetic. The vehicle slowed to a stop, his legs released their hold on the sides of the machine and he pushed it forward into the lot beneath the building after showing his card to the guard. Not that the man ever checked it anymore. He knew that Mello lives in the building. Leaving his bike in its space the male walked heavily toward the elevator taking it to his floor once inside. Sounds of passion float around the dingy hallway from a couple that lives two doors down from him. He knew Mrs. Two-doors-down is still at work and the person giving this lavish show of voice is just a tarty little guest of Mr. Two-doors-down. Opening the door of his apartment he shoved it closed after entering then removed his light leather jacket, dropping it to the floor as if it didn't cost the 300 dollars that it did. He'd saved up for that luxury purchase for a long while, like he had with his bike. But it made little difference how expensive things were treated in the mind of Mello. Wear and tear is what it is. It would happen whether he safe guarded the thing or not since he wears it all the time.

Plucking his phone from the table where he threw the motorcycle key, he flipped it open to check for messages. None. Figures. Which is why he kept his phone at home whenever he went out. It served little purpose. He had no one to call and no one calls him. Continuing the strip tease through the space of his apartment, he wound up in the bedroom and changed into a light set of pajamas, then grabbing his laptop he took it into the living room to the couch. Television turned on- if only to staunch the growing silence- Mello turned on the computer then typed in the information he wanted to search for, getting himself up from the couch afterwards to fix a drink. He felt like he hadn't eaten all day... wait, he hadn't. After having a bowl of Wheaties for breakfast he'd spent the day doing his job only to go back to the office to be handed re-route papers. From there he'd gone to the diner and let it all sink in. Most guys felt honored to be transferred, especially to a countryside where the work load is a lot less and you got a lot more time off because of it. He didn't care either way. After his glass of milk was poured he drowned it in his secret pleasure, Hershey's Syrup. The spoon clattered nosily around the glass as its guided in a circle by Mello's hand, he walked over to the couch taking a seat before the laptop; setting the glass down he lifted the spoon out bringing the dripping item to his mouth to remove the liquid and set it down on the table after cleaning it.

"Let's see..." He voiced; his finger swiped along the mouse pad to scroll down the line-up of houses for sale in Silent Hill.

Mello is sure he didn't want anything like a home-home. He's one man after all, and to be honest he enjoys living in an apartment. So he clicked on the section listed apartments, condos, and lofts. It felt like a dating service, reading all the descriptions and attractions the places have to offer and by that deciding on which he liked best. He found a lovely little place in an apartment located in Central Navaho Moon, it has a good size, good lay out with 2 bedrooms and one half bath. But he didn't want to live too deep in the area so he searched for another apartment in a place just within the main state. Blue Creek apartment building. It would do. He could bunk there while keeping his place here, sort of a temporary home. He'd actually be fine sleeping in the truck as long as he could continue living in the city. Deciding that he'd get the paperwork underway sooner than later, Mello noted that the site also had a weblink to a tour guide service of the area. That would come in handy as well since he will need to learn his route. Signing himself up for just that he decided he would head out to the place tomorrow and get everything situated before next week.

Shutting down the computer by closing the monitor he walked into the bedroom dropping onto the bed. It didn't matter how early it was, he could leave the apartment and hang out around the city if he woke up any time between morning and now...

Mello woke with an ache over his entire body. He'd just escaped from the weirdest dream, escaped being the key word. It felt so real that if he didn't wake from it he thought surely he would die in his sleep. He'd been running with no purpose, no goal, typical dream stuff right? Only he was being chased by a large mob of people lit on fire. He hit a bridge that was closed off, raised for ships to come through. So he stood there screaming, but his voice was gone so no one heard his cries as he told the moving wall of fire to stay back. He had his gun in the dream and with it picked a few chips from the wall that fell away from the line like little balls of burning life. Were there actual people within the burning wall surely they'd be screaming, but there was no sound but dense silence broken only by the crackling of the flames. They were closer to him but just before the wall of fire could hit him, he found his footing lost and was then struggling to keep himself on the surface. His fingernails scraped painfully into the concrete that didn't want to hold him any longer, and it threatened to give way under his need to hold on to all above him. Darkness below him and darkness above, nothing but the cold street within his grasp but there was something else... Someone was standing just out of view on the street watching him hold on. But would they help me, he wondered. As the person approached a stream of smoke blew down into his face and when the touch of finger tips caught his attention... He fell...

Sitting up with a groan, he rubbed his shoulder in hopes of relieving it from the pains from last night. It was so strange; in the dream when he thought that he'd fall and fall into an endless, bottomless void, he wound up brutally slamming into something cold and iron over and over again. It was iron, that much he could tell even if he could not see it. He hoped it wasn't a sign of things to come by his switching cities. He didn't believe in much, regardless the rosary that hung around his neck nearly everyday. It belonged to his mother; and let's see you refuse a gift from a dying woman. How well would your conscience fair? Tossing the blanket from his body, he moved over to the window and tugged open the curtains to let daylight in- or what of it could shine around the large sky scrapers of the city. The most natural his sunlight got was from its reflecting off the windows of the building across from his.

Mello showered and changed into his work clothes by pulling the dark blue jumpsuit up over a pair of black jeans paired with a red t-shirt. Hair tied off in a low ponytail, he grabbed up his house keys on the way out. He had to snicker at the new mess in the hall as it would seem Mrs. Two-doors came home a little earlier than Mr. Two-doors had planned and she threw him and his things out of the apartment. He didn't wonder where the man was, he either left with his mistress or was asleep in the lobby on the gray loveseat. Stepping around a particularly ugly pair of boxer shorts decorated with firetrucks and hoses, Mello found his way into the elevator and waited the ride to ground level. He plans on working quickly today so that he can head out to Silent Hill and get a contract going for a secondary place. He will also be taking a tour, once there, and who knew how long that would last. Even before getting out of the building he was greeted with car horns and the whizzing sound of the moving vehicles, and people talking. It didn't even change in volume when the large double doors were pushed open. Taking his bike out of the lot he headed for work at a fast pace.

"Hey Mihael," One of his fellow trashmen said to him in a tone that sounded very much like an insult rather than a greeting. "Lucky you, huh? You're the one with the transfer that most guys would kill for." His snicker wiped any truth from his words.

Mello ignored him. As if he gave a fuck about what these people think of him. They all behave the same way, albiet they're not exact in their behavior since by far Mello would be classified as the worst of the bunch. He leered, insulted- not behind backs, mind you, but directly to faces, stole food that other guys brought to work to have for lunch, and half the time he wouldn't even show up leaving his bulk of the work to one of the others. Climbing into the large truck after parking his bike a ways away from the filth that litters the place, the male whose agitation is steadily growing, drove it out into the city.

It was twelve by the time Mello returned from his task. The boss wanted to talk to him, but he told the man that he didn't have the time then left without another word. He had to get a rental car because there was no way he was making the entire trip to Silent Hill on his bike. He couldn't anyway. But then again he'll be renting everything that's going into his new place so maybe he could take the bike. Dropping the bike off in the lot he removed his jumpsuit, once inside his place, and untied his hair as well. Leaving the building he took a bus down town getting off as close to the rental dealership as he could be. Getting something affordable rather than stylish, he wasted no time in leaving the city. He had nothing keeping him here besides his own love for it and even that would eventually fade into nothing. Just as his mother had. He loved her to say the least, and her death took a heavy toll on him. A psychoanalyst would probably look at him and stem his poor work habits to that very event in his life. Honestly, that was when it had started. The pick and choose, the lack of effort at all. She died and in some ways he'd gone with her.

The car sped up once he'd passed the city limits. Nothing but open freeway stretching into this town, that state, or the next. Mello drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel to the Jay-Z song that's blasting out of the stereo. Instead of singing the drone of: on to the next one, he stuck with whistling it. Glancing down at his map he checks out the road sign then makes the turn just up ahead. The car moved around a curve and up onto a bridge. The song changed and Mello pressed the skip button so another track came on. By the end of the CD he'd made it into a tunnel, bright orange lights engulfed the car as he whipped by them to the exit. Its a nice day to be out on the road. The sun is shining, clouds keep it from being annoyingly hot while at the same time they are only further reminding you that it's November and nippy as shit when it wants to be. At least there was no early snow.

When it hit five o'clock, he thought about stopping and getting a hotel for the rest of the day, but it would be pointless, he'd already made a stop a little while ago and Silent Hill isn't that far away. He only needed one more hour to the next state. He'd get a hotel once he's there. It wasn't wonder, what with all the distractions he was giving himself, that Mello missed the sign that told him where he was. He stopped the car twice having to check the map under the overhead light just to try and figure it out. Nowhere on it did it say Silent Hill. It says Virginia, that's as far as it goes. The place must have been tinier than he'd expected. But it didn't seem right. Maybe he should have flown in like most people do, at least then he could ask someone once he got off the plane rather than being alone on a road surrounded by a thick very dense forest.

"Shit." Mello bit out.

He wasn't the only one angry and his stomach made that very clear by growling loudly just then. With a sigh of annoyance, he reached into the back of the car and grabbed a sandwich from the backseat. He'd made one stop along the 6 hour drive to use the bathroom and when he'd gone into the gas station he picked up a sandwich and a bag of chocolate iced doughnut minis. Setting it down on the empty passenger seat he reached back again to grab the donuts, removing one from the bag he takes a bite while thinking about back tracking until he finds the entrance sign. Maybe he's in the wrong location altogether.

'I'll drive into town and ask someone.' He figured.

Starting the engine, the car edged forward picking up speed in his urgency. Night was laying over the sky like it had a few things it wanted to do as well and the sooner it got down to its business the better. Headlights gleamed before the car's path doing very little to help him see, in Mello's opinion. He hadn't even realized that he'd turned off the radio and when he turned it back on something strange happened. The CD wouldn't play. Oh it spun around inside the machine but it stopped itself altogether before playing a song. If it were his own car he'd be bitching, but since this is a rental he shrugs it off knowing not to think anything of it. Its rented; who really knew what morons did to or in these things. He could be sitting on semen right now. Not a comforting thought, and he shifted in the chair as if he could somehow sit on the seat without actually touching it. Switching the stereo from CD to F.M. radio he found that all the stations were out because nothing is playing on any of them but crackling static.

'Must be bad reception.'

Just when he was about to give up on any musical entertainment, one station did come in playing a song that reminded Mello of a childhood tune his mother played often enough for him to subconsciously learn the words. It wasn't the same song, it just has the same feeling. Wandering alone and it's raining on you. Darkness everywhere but for some reason you're pressing forward. Checking the clock he wondered why he wasn't seeing any houses or street lights or even any other cars. He should have been closer in by now. The road even broke away from concrete to dirt.

His phone rang just then and the thought of not answering crossed his mind; it couldn't be anyone important anyway. But his hand is in the glovebox retrieving it before he'd mentally given the command to do so. Flipping it open he asked, "What?" while shouldering it so he could grab another doughnut from the bag. "What?" He asked again as if he'd missed what the caller had said when in fact there was no response at all. "Hello? Can you hear me?" He asked and suddenly remembers that the radio was out on every station but the one that's still blaring a song out at him. Figuring it's useless, he started to close the phone when the caller finally came through.

No words are said just some very hard, very serious, crying from the other end.

"Ar-..." He started to say but stopped. He didn't know who that was, let alone why they were crying but... it sounds a lot like... but it couldn't be. Its ridiculous to even think so. "Are you alright?" He heard himself ask.

He dropped the end of the sentence as the next word out of his mouth was going to be... Mother. The woman, crying without pause, sure as hell sounded like her. But it just couldn't be. Maybe he was tired. He had read somewhere that nightmares take away from your sleep since you're not exactly getting a comfortable rest. But again, Mello didn't really believe in much. After the question had been put out there the crying stopped leaving nothing but the sound of crackling over the phone. It was weird because the crackling sounded exactly like that from his dream... the fire. Staring at his phone once his chocolate sticky fingers removed it from his ear, he flipped it closed then dropped it onto the passenger seat. Just as he looked back up at the road something darted out before the car.

"Shit!"

The wheel spun hard in his instruction and the car swerved just missing what looked like a lanky, dark haired man in a dingy white shirt. The car spun rapidly sliding itself further ahead up the road and off to the side, unfortunately it was the wrong side, because during his reach for food and the strange phone call with death, he'd come up on a cliff-side and the car is heading right over the side. Pumping the break with his foot the vehicle managed to slow itself to a stop right before it could go over but damn if it wasn't leaning over hard enough to fall. Mello would have to get out from the backseat and hopefully the car won't go toppling down the mountain side as he makes his move for the exit. Undoing the seat-belt he turned himself, gripping the passenger seat for help he raised a leg over the seat divider setting the foot onto the floor of the backseat.

A grunt ahead of him caught his attention and whomever it was, whose life was spared by his dangerous maneuvering, was standing behind the car giving it a push with his shoulder doing a good job of resembling a linebacker.

"What are you doing?! Stop!"

But it did no good and the car went over...

It was nothing like that of anything you'd see on television or in a movie. The car didn't roll like a child playing on a hillside, but it tumbled down the craggy cliff-side like a gymnast working the balance beam or uneven bars. And the noise! The movies never prepare you for the actual sounds that go on inside a car when its tumbling down a cliff. It resembled that of an odd thunder storm and with the way he's popping his head, it creates a great sense of the flashing lightning. Mello heard bang after bang from the car hitting the rocky ledges, its roof, its bottom, sides- any part of the car that came into contact with the mountain banged like a clap of thunder. Considering how he was positioned in the car when it went over Mello is being thrown all over the place, and he cried out in pain when his back slammed uncomfortably into the windshield splitting it beneath his thrown weight. He was tossed into the backseat then into the back door; the mountain had broken that window out and it was perhaps that reason for his survival because on the next tumble Mello fell out from the window and rolled heavily to the ground. The car left him for dead as it fell faster to the bottom of the cliff. The last thing Mello saw was a large rock before everything went black.

...

He didn't know whether he wanted to kiss the crow or kill it for kawing so loudly as it went by. If he hadn't heard the bird who really knew how long he'd of been passed out in the forest. His eyes opened slowly but he did not move a muscle. He didn't know if anything is broken or not, so why make it worse by rapidly moving about when he could slowly assess the situation of his person. With a groan his limbs move, arms bending, knees... all of them responded properly to his command, and his back isn't broken either. Sitting up, he rubbed his throbbing head trying to massage the pain away. An eye closed when his vision winked up into the trees, he sees that the sun is shining overhead through branches as thick as five of his gaunt body hugged up together. Moving his massage down from his head to his aching shoulder he pushed up from the ground walking, hobbled really, over to the wreckage of the car. From the occasional sting here and there he could tell that he's bleeding from cuts acquired, but he couldn't worry about that right then; it doesn't feel too serious anyway- considering the drop; he glanced off to his side and up to notice this distance. He'd say he got damn lucky he was still alive. Maybe too lucky for such a drastic fall. There's a good chance he's dead, but then the dead don't feel pain now do they?

"Fuck," He muttered when falling to his knees. He grunted leaning over to reach into the car that's landed on its roof in a complete mess. Good thing he got the insurance. Crawling inside the window at the driver's side, he was amazed that he doesn't smell fuel leaking. He searched for his cell phone knowing that he will have to call in and report the accident. There may not be a fire yet, but there will be. Cars don't take that much damage without a little boom to show for it. But try as he might, his frantic hands didn't sweep past the phone or anything that felt like it. Moving himself from the car, he shook his head in disbelief. This was a fine way to start a new life. Car accident, no cell. Hn. No car. This really is a fucked up situation. Moving to stand he looked around him and noticed a small clearing in the pack of trees that are surrounding him like a gang ready to pounce. Heading through he finds a dirt path similar to the one he'd been shoved from yesterday. His watch revealed that it was eleven in the morning. He'd been unconscious for a long while. Maybe he should see a doctor when he got into town- if he got into town because he had yet to even find the area. He should have taken the map. Too late to turn back now as he'd already been walking for fifteen minutes.

And it was strange because it felt as though he is being followed. He continually looked over his shoulder but nothing was back there, nothing out of the ordinary, so maybe its an animal. A squirrel, a bird. He let himself babysit the idea of it being the nut-job that pushed the car over the cliff. He could be in some back-water place where man has convinced himself that people taste better than animals. It wouldn't surprise him really. From what he saw the guy was covered in blood, and he had some weird sort of contacts in because his eyes looked to be red. But then, it could just be a burnt sort of brown turned red in the reflection of the car's headlights. Mello was getting tired, he thought he could walk off the pain and for the most part he had, but his body still ached something awful, and his head is pounding with every step. Its so bad he could swear he hears foot steps trailing up close behind him. Or maybe...

Turning around abruptly- further agitating his head- he saw no one, but... he could still hear the foot steps. Looking around, Mello decided to keep going without pause. Even when the foot steps started again, even when the phantom foot steps added the breathless sound of panting with it after picking up the pace. Its getting closer, closer... It sounded directly behind him. So close that if he were to turn it would... Jerking forward he made sure to land facing the direction that he'd been pushed from in order to see the person who did it, but looking over his shoulder, Mello cocked a brow in confusion.

'I don't understand, I know someone pushed me because I felt the force of it.' Again he looks around. 'I heard the foot steps, I heard the panting.' Now that he really noticed someone could have been out there messing with him because a thick fog is covering every inch of the forest that he's not directly occupying. But could someone move that fast is the real question.

"I know someone is out here with me!" He shouted. "I'm not gonna hurt you, and you have no reason to hurt me! We can help each other!" He called as loudly as he could but before he can add more he stopped himself. This was stupid. There wasn't anyone out here with him. He just must have hit his head harder than he'd thought. Getting up from the ground he starts back up the path with hope that it will lead him into town. What a horrible trip this has turning out to be.

It grew quiet, very quiet actually. He was starting to miss the stalker. By the time the scenery changed from forest to open field Mello was ready to collapse, in fact he does just that by leaning his weight on the closest thing to him which is a well. Panting hard, he allowed himself to shrink down onto the dirt surrounding the covered stone well. He had to smile a bit; a well means drinking water and drinking water meant people. He could get a place to stay for the night and ask for directions into town as well. But for right now, he closes his eyes and rest his head against the cold stone. Just a little nap...

Mello jumped out of his skin when the loud sound of a chainsaw filled his tired ears jarring him alert. Looking about, his teal eyes wide, he forced his exhausted body to stand. Stupid idea sleeping outside when not long ago you figured the place to be filled with cannibal hillbillies. His gaze settled on a small building a good few yards ahead. It was faint to make out but it was there. Forcing his legs to move he headed over to the place following a long stone fence that comes up as high as his waist. Hopefully he'll find a way in and won't have to climb it on injured arms. A rounded iron-bar door greets his hand after a ten foot walk and he pushed it open heading beyond the gate. It's a cemetery. Not really what he had expected to find but it would do for now. The sound of the chainsaw never ceased and never changed its general buzzing sound like it would if someone were using it to cut through something, so maybe it isn't a chainsaw at all but an item that sounds similar to it. Either way it wasn't anything he wanted to get close to and was glad to further distance himself from it when he reached the building that rest ahead of the hill of headstones.

"Hello?" He called out first. Better to have the inhabitants come out than for him to be trapped when going in. "Is anyone in there?"

A crow flew by overhead landing on the fence. Mello would have called again had the door to the place not opened right then. A very tall man greeted him with a suspicious eye, he looked the blond up and down then gave a sort of nod as if asking Mello to speak.

"I got into an accident in the forest," He said right off skipping small talk. "I need a phone and a place to stay." He felt no need to ask since it was implied that he wanted this location to be that place.

The man looked him in the eye with his brown gazed squint, then stepping back from the entrance he allowed the male inside. "Phone is over there." He said in a throaty rasp before he began to cough hard enough to burst a lung.

Mello gave his own suspicious eye at the man but muttered a 'thank you' before grabbing the phone receiver. He's happy to hear a dial tone and dialed 9-1 but stopped before the third. He wasn't sure if you alert the police for a car accident. He should call the fire department, right? Maybe he should just ask for directions into town and worry about the car when he got there.

"You said that you got into an accident in the forest." The man asked.

Mello didn't answer but hung up the phone and walked into the living area where the man has gone. He looked as though he were about to go someplace. "Yeah, about a good two, maybe, three miles in."

"I can get your car for you." He ran a hand over his balding head. "I've got a pick-up."

"It's completely wrecked, though. Its no use to me anymore." Mello felt himself relaxing but he coaxed his nerves to remain alert. He shouldn't and wouldn't trust this man. He was still hanging on to the belief of cannibalism. "I really just need a lift into town."

"I can go get your car for you." The man repeated and also repeated running his hand over his balding head. "I've got a pick-up."

"...Fine," Mello replied giving the man another suspicious glance. "do whatever you want. Do you know where the town of Silent Hill is?"

The man pointed to the front door, his hand turned a bit so that his finger is aimed North. "Head that way, you'll be right in town. Paleville."

"Thanks." Walking cautiously past the man, Mello let the screen door slam behind him. He went down four brick stairs leading him to the dirt road.

The sound of the chainsaw kept on buzzing but the further away from the farm house he got the less he heard it. He wished like anything his gun wasn't still in the car. Fuck. Why hadn't he remembered it when he was fishing for his cell phone? Well, maybe farmer Brown won't find it in the glove compartment; he would retrieve it when he got another rental and drives back out. The walk wasn't far and before he knew it the ground turned into street. It was strange, though, because he was sure he'd see people right off the bat, but instead he was greeted with the same silence he had in the forest. Well, maybe not exactly that because there wasn't the sound of heavy breathing or foot steps.

"Hello!?" He called out.

Deserted. Was he being asked to live in a deserted town? Was that the joke that Max, from work, was making. A dream route. An abandoned town with no job to do. Is he hated that much?

"Hello!" He called out again.

Had he said anything more he would have missed the sound of feet scurrying. The person seemed to be running from him, but he would not let them get away and he gave chase. The hidden runner was fast but Mello kept his pace with the sounds of stomping foot steps. If he could be honest with himself, it sort of sounded as though there were more than one person. But at times like these that was all the better and he continued to follow. Mello might have found them sooner had the fog not been so thick, he even caught himself bundling his jacket around his neck when a light snow began to fall. The cold must have gone right to his bones because he was very tired suddenly, like he'd been running for hours without break.

"Stop." He called out. "Would you please wait." He tried being nice.

It wasn't until he'd hit an alley that the person or persons decided to stop. Mello bent over catching his breath through hard, quick, panting. It seemed the pursued was at a dead end. Stepping closer once his breathing evened out, Mello was surprised to see that he hadn't been chasing a human at all but a dog. A really fat dog at that. Wonderful.

With a smirk Mello asked good-humoredly. "Guess you wouldn't know where the towns' people are, huh, boy?"

The dog looked dazed and seemed to be quietly sneezing as its head wriggled and shook from side to side. It would seem that he wasn't just following any ordinary dog as this one clearly has a bad case of rabies.

Backing out of the alley, Mello spotted a payphone a few feet away. Maybe he should call a cab service. Surely there's a phone book with them. Grabbing a phone he thumbed through the pages of the large yellow paged book under 'C'. If he had been paying attention he would have noticed that at his side the dog came staggering from between the buildings. Low choking sounds cluster out of the dog's mouth until they reach a full growl. The white froth dripping from its mouth turned a frosty pink then to red bubbles.

'What the hell is going on with the phone services?' Mello wondered when the dial tone changed to that weird crackling sound he had heard over his cell during the ride in. 'They must not be used to the snow so the lines are down.' Hanging up the receiver he spots the dog. 'Probably wants some food.' He fished around in his pocket, knowing he has nothing, but you never know; there could have been some tic-tacs in there. "Look I don't have any food on me. Why don't you look up a garbage can or something. I happen to know that people waste a lot of food."

But the dog seems disinterested in the human's words as it staggered closer. Mello watched in muted fascination as the dog's blood soaked mouth began to part, fascination being the key word because instead of horizonatal- like normal- the dogs mouth parted vertically. In fact, the animal's entire head split open from top to bottom; sharp jagged teeth protrud through the newly opened flesh. Taking a step back when seeing that the mutated dog continues to advance towards, Mello's hair stood on end when the head of the dog; now separated into two pieces, looked up into the sky and let out an ear piercing howl over and over again like it were in a trance of some kind. Or maybe...

Like a summons, four more dogs joined their disfigured leader. All the same type of fat bull dog, white and smushed. Freaky thing was that they are all just as disfigured as the leader and when they began to close in on him, Mello saw that the pudgy husky skin of the animal looked pulled and sewn, like it had been blown apart and then stitched back together- poorly at that.

"Nice dog." He held out a hand in defense. "I told you, check the garbage cans for food. I don't have anything on me." He stepped back further and further with the pack moving in just as slowly, step by step.

Knowing that the pack wouldn't back down Mello turned and ran. The 5 dogs gave him little starting time than a group howling of 3 times before they charged after him. Their combined paws pattered loudly behind him like hard rain beating on a tin roof. Mello didn't bother to look over his shoulder to check their proximity to him, he just pushed his legs and feet to carry him faster, to where, he doesn't know. He just needs to get away. Turning in between a deli and a flower shop he nearly bumped his hip savagely into a postal box when crossing the street. Ducking between two large buildings he jerked open a gate fence door pulling it closed behind him before heading down a long row of stairs set up with 9 stairs to 3 rows. The gate would hopefully slow the mutts down, but that dream was short lived, not long after he'd made it to the second set of stairs did he hear that gate break like it had been shattered into nothing but hundreds of rings, scattering all over the place.

As the light from overhead became completely blackened out by the tall buildings enclosing him, Mello was wishing that the stairs went up rather than down. He could very well be running into a dead end. He actually felt his skin prickle at how determined the dogs have become as one actually got up beside him and took a nip at his swinging arm. He couldn't push himself any harder, he'd black out from loss of breath! As if things couldn't get any worse, Mello had to move his arm away from another attempt and that distraction had him miss a rock in his direct path and his booted foot caught on it stumbling him forward and into a metal fence.

He wasn't beat yet though. One foot at a time he scales the fence, but it did him little good as exhaustion weighed his limbs considerably and the pack of mutated mongrels locked onto his legs and one on his arm pulling him down to slaughter. He cried out from each locked jaw and sharp tooth that dug deep into his skin. The flesh on his fingers snagged in the corner catches of the gate fence as he tried to hold on, but it did him little good. His 110 pounds was nothing against the combined force of these 200 plus pound dogs.

He was sure that his scream could be heard around the neighborhood as loud as it was ringing in his own ears. The dogs shook their heads vigorously while growling, and snapping, and gnawing at his petite limp body. Kicking an arm and a leg out he hoped to free himself but nothing seemed to be working. One dog worked its deformed muzzle up his shirt and locked onto his side tightly making Mello sputter blood from his mouth. This is how he's going to die? THIS! Nothing but a puddle of blood and scattered limbs as surely this pack of beast would devour every bit of his inards.

Breathing wet and shallow, Mello saw his vision give. A loud siren blared overhead, like a fire engine, or maybe a siren sound for a nuclear war. He wasn't sure, but he knew that he was tired and things were getting darker.

...

Mello shot up to a sit when he felt his eyes opening. He knows he is not dead right away because he can feel soft leather material beneath his hand. Confused, he looked down to make sure that he wasn't naked and pawing at his own torn off clothes, but he was fully dressed. More coherent now his senses focus one at a time on his surroundings. Music playing, people talking, clanks from what he can identify as cutlery hitting plates. Visually he is in a diner. Simple as that. Stools, a bar, tables, booths, people.

'What the hell happened? Was I dreaming?' He wondered raising a hand to his head. Groping himself suddenly, his side mostly, he felt none of the pain that should have been there from the dog mauling. And lifting his shirt he saw no markings that anything had ever happened.

"...'Bout time you woke up." Came a voice at his side. "Want something to eat."

A cup of what smelled like coffee was set down before him. Looking to his side, a lank male looking a bit younger than himself dropped into a single chair across the table from him. Blinking at the goggles uplifted into the stranger's stringy red bangs, a cigarette- unlit- dangling between his lips, Mello said nothing but watched this mysterious person who seemed to be talking to him.

"I'll pay if that's what you're wondering."

"Where am I?" Mello asked hearing the scratchy husk in his over used voice. He had clearly been screaming as his nightmare- reality... he wasn't sure, had shown him.

"Sun Cafe in Central Silent Hill."

"You mean, I'm in Silent Hill?"

The male nodded, the cigarette switched to the other side of his mouth. "And you're lucky I'm such a good guy because you ran right out in front of my car. I could have killed you."

"I ran in front of your car?"

"Hn." The male scoffed or maybe it was a friendly little laugh. "I always wanted a talking parrot but now's not the time for picking up pets." Handing Mello a menu, he asked then. "What's your name?"

Taking it, he answered the question. "Mello."

"Mello?" He repeated, playing parrot himself. "Cool. I'm Mail Jeeves, but" Hand out to shake Mello's, he grinned. "you can call me Matt."


	2. Loose Ends

Matt had to sit back for a minute and watch this stranger he'd picked up off the street. After the stranger got his senses together, he ordered a plate of eggs with bacon and toast, which he inhaled and then ordered another plate of the same thing with a thick chocolate milkshake on the side each time. Matt had never seen anything like it, in fact he'd never seen anyone like this Mello. Matt had been in a hurry to get to the bus station where he assumed he'd be picking up a new client to take on tour when this skinny blond lunatic shot out from the alley like his ass were on fire and he had to roll in the streets to put himself out. The car was stopped just in time to keep Mello from becoming one of the very pancakes he's now working down his throat. The blond is kind of banged up as it is, bruises are here and there on his face, forehead, his left arm seemed to move funny as it reached out for the tall glass of chocolate suffocation. Matt had to wonder if maybe Mello had been in a fight with someone. The people of Silent Hill aren't exactly a rough crowd but then you never know how people will react to outsiders. Only this man doesn't seem like the type you could easily push around, regardless his thin build. Mello, he's sure, can't be homeless, he's dressed too well for that to be the case.

'Hn.' Matt thought. 'He's no doubt new here and bought some freaky drug from a dealer in Old Town and is tweaked out on it.'

And why not? Matt's seen it before. People come to this resort town for rest and relaxation and dealers try pushing something illegal on them. Half the time visitors don't take it, but others do. Others like Mello. He has all the signs: head down, nerves frazzled, and continually he looks over his shoulder at nothing. Almost like he can hear someone talking to him that isn't there.

Scoffing in amusement, Matt takes out his silver lighter. Its his favorite. Its big, sturdy, and has a bitchen bat-winged Shinigami welded into it. "Mello, do you mind?" He asked, though he's unsure if he'd get an asnwer from the pile of nerves seated before him. But who wouldn't be shaken after nearly getting run over? He'd blacked out before he could even see that the car had been there. Whatever this guy had gone through it was serious.

Looking at his gracious host Mello didn't understand the question, namely because he hadn't heard him. He was too busy with his own thoughts. He wouldn't have looked up at all had he not heard his name called. "Go ahead." He didn't know why Matt needed his permission to smoke but some people were raised funny, he guessed.

Lighting up, Matt took it in like it were fresh spring air as opposed to the rotten scent of bacon and syrup, or the putrid aroma of strawberry jam or hashbrown potatoes. Blowing out a long cloud; Matt resumed his viewing of the live-action television show of a eating competition he's turned his present company into. The blond had stopped his nervous movement by now deeming himself safe. He must be getting full too, his eating has slowed considerably. Which, for Matt, meant Q and A time.

"Where are you from?"

"The town right by this one." He felt no need to be specific. If he honestly cared about the exacts Matt can ask for it.

"Mm." Satisfied, or lacked any actual care of whether he lived a town over or on the moon, Matt then asked. "What do you do?"

"Garbage."

"That's new."

Mello shrugged. He isn't ashamed of his work, though it isn't exactly the kind of thing he'd set out to do in life but it keeps him fed and housed, so why complain? If anything better came along he'd be the first to jump train, but nothing has. So here he is.

"What are you doing here?"

"Transfer at work. This place is my new route."

That seemed to cheer Matt up somehow as he put on a pleasant smile, almost buttery had it not been so crooked. "That works out for me. Not many guys here my age and it gets kind of dull, so anytime you wanna hang out..." He let the invite hang.

Shifting his gaze off to the side then back he lowered his head then began to eat. "I'll think about it."

"Well think positively about it; I don't wanna stalk you for a, 'yes'." He snickered.

A handsome rasp of a sound. Mello noted. Matt must have been a smoker for a long time. Which led him to ask. "How old are you?"

"Nineteen." He nodded as if to toss the question back like a volleyball serve.

"Twenty one."

Surprised Matt shifted the cigarette over to the other side of his mouth. "You're younger than I thought. I hear garbage man and I assume your thirty-something," He shrugged.

"You wanted to hang out with me."

"I could have lied about your age. If you were that much older you sure don't look it."

Pushing the plate aside Mello looked around for a moment, his teal gaze taking in the room for what must have been a tenth time. It really was weird. He was alone. Completely, ghost town, 28 Days later, alone. So where was everyone? When did they come back? Why had they gone? "Matt, you said I ran out in front of your car?"

"Yeah."

"Did you see anyone following me?" He didn't wanna say anything specifically. Its easy to put your ideas and thoughts into other peoples head too often to ever really accomplish anything when asking questions, so he tactfully left out the fact that he was running from dogs. Mutant dogs to be exact.

Matt didn't even give it a thought as he shook his head.

'Hn.' Mello scoffed at his own stupidity. 'Of course he didn't see anything, there was nothing there. I've been in an accident and I'm a little messed up because of it.'

"You look like hell, by the way, want me to take you to the hospital? That is," He stands. "if you're done with feeding time." He smiled impishly.

The two walk out into the streets and boy what a difference a black out makes. There were cars whizzing by, horns honked. Someone up in one of the tall buildings snapping a throw rug into the November breeze to remove dust from it rather than just sweeping it like normal people would. This place actually seems kind of old school. Mello would bet they have a tiny red school house with a large bell to alert the kids its time to learn. People walking in groups or alone, talking or shouting to one another, a cellphone rang and was answered. Unlike when he'd arrived, the street lights and crosswalk signs are working as well. This ghost town has become your basic run-of-the-mill city. It was incredible!

"My car is right here." A newly gloved finger points outward at the vehicle closest to the curb. "Pretty sweet, right." He wasn't asking a question, it seemed, just putting out there what he knew Mello would say.

An oldschool muscle car sits parked before them across the street. The red color gleamed in the lighting of the sun, even the 2 black stripes on the hood shined like expensive onyx. It was a good looking car.

"Remodeled Plymouth GTX 440." Matt said with an easy grin.

Climbing in Mello noticed right away that it smelled like cigarette smoke and a faint whiff of cologne. Its clean inside, comfortable. The only really distinctive thing about the car that says "I've been driven" is the well worn grips on the leather covered steering wheel. Hearing the ignition Mello felt true comfort wash over him for the first time since coming into the new city, and he found himself shifting into a more comfortable sitting position.

"Where to?" Matt asked pulling into the street after barely checking to see if any cars were coming.

"I figured I'd tag along with you." Leaning forward he turns on the radio but leaves the volume low while flipping the stations. Every one of them is working. It makes sense, he supposed, since they are in town.

Matt watches as yet another tourist acts strangely. They've always done the same types of things. Paranoid behavior, constantly messing with phones or radios. Shaking his head, he turns left at the light.

"Do you know where the police station is?"

"Yeah, I work there."

"You're a cop?"

"Tour guide."

"Your the Matt from the website." He confirmed to himself.

"Yeah. Glad to see my little business is getting some good word of mouth."

"You said I should go to the hospital?" Mello, suddenly taking the conversation off-topic, remembered what Matt had said to him a bit earlier.

Matt looked as though he were ready to throw his confused new friend out onto the street, but he instead turned his car down the next road. Hospital is the better option right now. But he asked in case it was important. "What are you going to the police station for?"

"My car fell from the cliff before I entered town."

Matt blinked behind the orange lens of his goggles. "And you survived?"

"Hope so." Mello replied with a small smile.

Laughing, Matt nodded at the joke then returned his attention to the road. Matt was sure that if Mello had died, and he is carting around a ghost, he'd die from fright himself by the end of it. Seeing ghosts is crazy stuff, but truthfully he's not exactly immune to hallucinations being a fellow member of the stoner set. But he's not high now so having those little fits being real, would be too much to handle. Bad enough there are rumors about the ghost of that serial murderer floating around, but that could be his own fault as it is the best tourist attraction the resort town has. Nothing more fun than a good ghost story- especially if its considered true.

"I'll drop you off at the hospital so you can get looked at, and while you're there" The car is turned up the next road. "I'll report in about your car to the cops."

"Can you do another thing for me?"

Matt was sure he knew what that something was and nodded. "Yeah, I'll pick you up afterwards."

"I was gonna ask for a tour around the area." Mello watched the scenery out the passenger window. The glare from the sun was being blocked out every now and then by tall buildings giving Mello a come-and-go beard of light matching his hair. "I'm moving out here and I need to look over some places in Paleville."

"Paleville?" Matt muttered but left it at that.

Not missing the tone, Mello looks at the driver. "What?"

"Nothing, just some tour stuff- which you'll hear when I pick you up later."

The car pulled to a stop walking distance from the front entrance of the large hospital. Climbing out, Mello looked around the area taking in the buildings of a photo shop, a theater, office building, until his gaze settled on the hospital itself.

'Alchemilla.' He thought to himself. Seeing Matt from his peripheral vision he starts across the street a couple steps behind him before the two are side by side.

The large gate before the entrance is open and the two men pass right through. A courtyard was beyond the gate, two little maples stand three feet apart their bases wrapped by a little iron fence surrounding them is a square patch off grass 4 by 4 feet and the rest is concrete. At the far end of the courtyard lies a back door leading to a room that may or may not have an entrance once within the hospital.

Like the gentleman thug his grandmother raised, Matt held the door open for Mello to enter first. It went unacknowledged by the blond who was too busy taking it all in a conspicuous way, his teal gaze glancing this way and that around the room absorbing the yellow painted walls, oak wood doors and desk, white coffee tables, and blue leather covered chairs line the wall. Men and women, children, all sit around the waiting room with either ailment or an a appointment, faking it for something to do. One woman had a baby with her that was screaming up a storm and looked like he were trying to pull his ear off. The mother, used to the crying, continued reading her magazine while the child squirmed mercilessly within her hold. One man is taking a nap! Faking it. Mello decided.

"Hi," Mello heard Matt's voice. The red head is speaking with the receptionist. "My friend has been in a car accident and he needs to get checked out for concussions."

"Where is he?" The woman asked. Her large black eyes scanned the room landing on Mello. "Sir, do you think you'll be able to fill out this sheet?" She stands from her swivel chair to slide a clipboard with a form tacked beneath the clip over the large desk to him.

Walking over to the desk he takes the clipboard then walks it over to an empty seat, dropping his weight down into it. Matt figured that the male could take care of himself from there, why not, he's made it this far on the injury a little information form shouldn't slow him down. Without so much as a wave the red head stepped back out into the sunshine.

...

Nearly an hour had passed before the doctor could see Mello. All around the waiting room the inhabitants thinned out to nearly a cleared room, and just when he was going to say "fuck it" did a nurse come out from the double doors at the end of the room calling out his name in an almost mechanical way.

"Mihael Keehl?"

He stands up before she can call again. Her eyes meet his and she nodded before saying that Dr. Kaufmann will see him. Following her back beyond the doors and down the hall he reads the labels over the doorways: main office, laundry, cafeteria, basement etcetera. The opposite wall is lined with windows that lead the way to two vending machines one holding snacks the other sodas. They enter the elevator; its golden doors part for them with an audible ding and they ride it up to the second floor, where the nurse then leads Mello to room 203.

"The doctor will be in in a moment." The nurse took her leave then.

Mello looked around the room feeling like a teenager in the nurses office with false ailments that he hoped would get him out of class. A cabinet full of medical supplies of all kinds: guaze, compression wraps, tongue depressors, a pile of cotton swabs. He'd always wondered who would come in for a swabbing? Babies maybe. Could be for when they take a persons temperature through the ear and they've got a good lot of wax in there. Taking his attention from the cabinet Mello's gaze looks past a few posters of an open torso, a fetis in its mother's stomach, oddly enough a poster that told you to protect your teeth like they were your heart. His attention settled on the slab of a bed, a corner of it covered by an accordion-style changing screen.

Noticing where the patients stare is left, the doctor- who Mello had yet to notice beside him- gave a sniff before speaking. "You can have a seat over there." He pointed to the table when Mello looked at him. The portly man tugged on his stethoscope with each hand holding one end. His thick dark hair is greying but not too drastically as if refusing to let go of its natural color black. He's a bit taller than Mello but only by an inch or two. The patient headed over to the bed taking a seat atop the cold slab, shifting his weight once seated and trying to hold back the shiver from the chill cutting through his jeans.

"Says you've been in an accident." The doctor looked over the form he'd been filling out. Removing a light from his upper pocket, he clicked it on then aimed his freehand for Mello's eyelids. "What happened exactly- follow my finger with your eyes, please." He had to ask because Mello seemed perfectly fine considering what the form described.

"I was driving," His teal gaze moves to follow Dr. Kaufmann's index finger's movement. "I swerved and went over the cliff."

"Mhm." The man voiced, a sound of huge disbelief in his tone.

Mello wondered just what this doctors attitude was with him, but he didn't really care either way as long as the doctor didn't poke and grope at him with the care of a murdering psychopath. Speaking of poking. Mello winced when the man's finger gave him a little stab against his ribs on the left side. Kaufmann made a thoughtful sound before touching the bruise on Mello's forehead. A purple knot now that its had time to cultivate itself from the blood-crusted bruise it started out as.

"I was flung out of the window," He watched the doctor cross the room to grab cleaning tools. "right before the car hit the ground. And I popped my head against a rock and was knocked unconscious, for how long I'm not sure of."

Dr. Kaufmann pressed a button on the wall and a nurse emerged from one of the doors within the examining room pulling with her a large screen. "I have to give you an x-ray. You have a fractured rib."

"Okay." Sliding down from the table Mello stood still while the nurse placed the screen before him.

It had been a grueling half hour but by the time it was all done with and Mello, with a patch and gauze wrapped around his head, a strip of bonding tape around his torso, found that Matt was back from his trip to the police station and has been waiting for him with a PSP in hand playing a game as though he were lost to the real world and instead deep in the bowels of the virtual. But, lost as he was, he looked up with a cocked brow as though he knew the shadow coming up to him were Mello and not just a passerby.

Seeing the wonder cross Matt's thin features, he replied to the unasked question. "Nothing an aspirin won't cure."

"Aren't you lucky."

"Mm." Replied the blond grabbing the door handle he pulls it open slipping inside the comfort of the car.

Matt who had been leaning against the car waiting for Mello's return climbed inside as well. Saving his game he turns the handheld off dropping it carefully onto the passengers lap like he weren't there. Starting the car he pulled out into the street. "Do you still want that tour or would you rather come back to my place? I won't try anything on the first day." Teased the red head.

Mello kind of wanted to get the whole house hunting thing over with but Matt was making it hard to think when his suggestions were so helpful since the beginning of this thing. "I don't know." He can't avoid his new job forever. But he also can't sleep on the streets. His rental is still trashed. His cell phone is missing in the wreck. Right now he would like to sleep one off but what would that accomplish?

Matt waited patiently while driving who knows where until Mello made up his mind. He could have remained in the virtual world of Outbreak. Fighting zombies while helping himself and a couple of other city idiots escape. What a rush. Nothing entertaining like that ever happens in real life. Its too bad Mello wasn't a ghost, he found himself thinking at that moment; all fear from before gone in light of entertainment. The car slowed to a stop in front of a large apartment complex. The plaque read: Navaho Moon.

"You coming in?" Matt asked through the window after taking leave from the car.

Removing the seat belt from across his chest Mello tucked the handheld between his legs while climbing from the car. Closing the door he walked around to the sidewalk. Looking the building up and down he followed Matt through the gate then inside the building. The lobby was a wave of greens and yellow wood framed with gold. An enormous vase packed to the brim with flowers blocked the view of the elevator if you stood directly behind it, and the smell of them wafted gently through the air. If everything weren't on the verge of second hand Mello'd swear it was a real classy place; being impressed with even the slightest bit of money. He wondered how Matt could live in a place like this- unless even cheap apartments splurged on luxury of front of the house appearance. The red head stepped onto the elevator pressing the button for the second floor. When the ride ended the two travel down the hall to apartment 216. Matt produced a set of keys from his pocket and shoved it into the lock giving it a turn before pushing the door open. Again he stepped aside for Mello to enter first.

At first glance the place looked pretty good, but when looking it over with a fine eye you could see the little nicks in the walls, a small hole in the sofa's armrest, the carpet could use a wet-vac', and there was a faint musty smell of cigarette and something unfamiliar wafting around.

"Paradise." Patting his friend on the back, Matt walked into the kitchen to grab two glasses and after running them under the spraying faucet he came back to Mello handing him a glass. "Make yourself comfortable. You can stay here until you figure things out." He wasted no time in making himself comfortable on the couch, his legs kick up and land on the coffee table just when he tilts his head back to down the tap water.

Mello looked the drink over through the clear glass then took a sip before joining Matt on the couch only he had a little less flounce than the red head due to the tight wrap around his torso to still his cracked rib from getting worse.

The television is turned on and the two sit quietly through its noise of commercial advertisements and a sitcom. The simple purple curtains covering the window eventually darkened as the sun went down over the day. When the show ended a black and white movie started and after watching ten minutes of it Matt's memory was suddenly jogged and he popped up from the couch, startling Mello from a sleep he hadn't even realized he'd fallen into. Last things he recalled were of Matt laughing at a joke made on the show, being patted on his upper thigh by the homeowner to try getting him to laugh along, then darkness. Looking perplexed at the red head he rubbed his face from sleep and asked.

"What is it?"

"You left my game in the car, I'm gonna go get it." Already at the door, he looked over his shoulder when speaking again. "I'll be right back; bathroom's in the bedroom on the right." He added knowing that someone unfamiliar with the place would confuse it with the closet door that looks very similar to it.

Mello wasn't really sure whether or not he got half of that, but one thing did come in alerting him to the fact that he indeed needed to use the bathroom. Getting up from the couch, his body seemed to groan with a dull ache and his breaths shallowed a bit, Mello marched into the bedroom locating the bathroom to use in good health. Done with the task he washed his hands then splashed some water on his face to wake himself up a bit more. Checking his reflection he frowned. He looked like hell. Were his cheeks always this red and swollen? Touching his face he winced at the mild throb noticing in that small bit of movement his arm hurt a bit as well. And his leg- both legs in fact. Was his body having an aftershock from the crash or something?

This was different than the pounding he'd taken in the toppling car and Mello grunted feeling the memory of those dogs teeth sinking into his skin. Right now, it felt as though it were happening all over again but without the physical evidence of it. Shaking hands grip the sides of the white sink as he steadies himself from the pain; eyes tightly closed, teeth bared hard enough to crack in strain of his trembling body. The fractured rib bothering him more as he fights off a different ache. The pain grew and grew until Mello thought he was going to explode from the mutilation going on beneath his skin.

A loud bang startled him just then, looking at the closed bathroom door he noticed the sound came from beyond the bedroom in the living room. His vision glanced over to the mirror, his reflection looked normal. No blistered red skin or pock marks from a dogs teeth. He looked as his usual self minus the new addition of the bandage around his head. Distracted by the fun house mirror Mello's attention was quickly returned to the pounding on the door in the living room. Exiting the bathroom he bounded through the living room, talking as he went.

"Who locks themself out of their own place?" He pulled the door open, realizing too late that he hadn't unlocked it before swinging it open. Momentarily distracted by his hand on the knob, Mello then looked out into the hall to find it empty. Giving it a shot he called out, "Hello?" as he looked left then right like a child would before crossing the street. 'I know I heard someone bang on this door.' He reasons with his prickling nerves. But he had yet to find proof of the phantom banger; the hall seemed genuinely unoccupied from any point other than Matt having left through it a little while ago.

Closing the door Mello moved to the window to peek down into the street to locate the gamer, but he could barely see out the window. And its snowing on top of that. Finding an apartment is gonna be hell tomorrow. No one is gonna want to drive through this. Hopefully it won't get too thick overnight. The opening door caught Mello's attention and glancing over his shoulder he sees Matt enter. Odd thing about that is he didn't seem the least bit cold. But then its never really all that cold when snow first comes down. Matt waved the handheld in the air as though it were a survivor of a nasty storm or avalanche on a snowy mountain.

"You wanna go out to eat?" Asked the hero of the forgotten.

"I'll have whatever's here."

Matt scratched his shoulder as if to say "fine" before striding off to the kitchen. Mello felt a pang of guilt that maybe he was over stepping his 'guest' status. But Matt didn't seem to be complaining as a pot of water is placed onto the larger burner of the electric stove. Least Mello could do is help. Walking into the kitchen he looked around at the contents taken out in order to get a sense of what Matt had planned on making, now and then the red head would be passed in his field of vision and he seemed to either have a rash or a nasty itch because he continued rubbing the back of his neck in a clawing manner. That was something Mello could do for him; he used to give his mother shoulder, neck, head massages all the time. He'd gotten pretty good at it.

Matt produced a very handsome laugh when Mello's hands clamped down onto his shoulders rubbing away, his thumbs digging in deep. "What are you doing?" He asked in good humor while dropping a small chunk of ground sausage into a skillet to cook through, but he hadn't told Mello to stop what he knew the male to be doing.

"Figured it'd be good payment for your kindness." He moved himself over to the left a bit to avoid being elbowed by Matt's swinging arm, which is hacking into the pile of meat to break it into little chunks. He'd even moved over to the cabinet behind the male when he retrieved a jar of spaghetti sauce. Snickering when Matt laughed again. "Don't worry, I won't use the sleeper hold until after the meal is done."

"Mm." Was Matt's response as Mello's thumbs dug into a particularly sore spot.

The smells in the kitchen were to die for, the rich aroma of tomato sauce, the sausage- mild sweet-, even the starch from the long noodles was adding a nice under waft. Mello let his hostage go long enough for Matt to plate himself up, and for himself to do the same. He got less a portion than the homeowner figuring he'd want the leftovers for another day. He personally hated cooking, and avoided it as much as possible; having a home cooked meal was going to be a nice change of pace from his usual dining out for burgers and fries- sometimes onion rings if the mood struck him to have one fried grease pile over the other. The two ate standing up in the kitchen, leaned against the counter top. Mello with his plate on the counter and Matt, facing the other direction, held his in airspace. The silence as they ate was thoughtful, if the food was liked or disliked it wasn't voiced beyond a slurp once in a while from a noodle that strayed from the twirl around the fork.

"Want the bed or the couch?"

"Its your place, you take the bed." Mello replied finishing the last bite directly after his words.

Snickering, he washed his plate in the sink leaving it there once the last of the cleaning suds has been washed away. "If you knew how many times I've fallen asleep on the couch with my handheld in my lap, you'd know it doesn't make a difference where I sleep. Besides, your rib is broken, you take the bed." Reaching for his goggles that are dangling around his neck, Matt removed a cigarette from a little fold within the band of them. Smiling when noticing he was being watched, he explained in a short sentence. "I noticed the fold two years ago and thought I should put it to use." Removing his shinigami lighter he lit the end of the cigarette taking in a deep puff of smoke. "You can borrow a night shirt if you need it," He stepped aside so Mello could get to the sink.

"Thanks, but I usually sleep in what I'm wearing." He cleaned the food stains from the plate, redoing Matt's since the mess from his own drained right onto it. How did the male get anything clean if he washed dishes this way? There was still the matter of the pot and skillet. And Mello took it upon himself to wash those as well but the moment he grabbed the pot he had to set it back down as pain shot up his arm.

The wince didn't go missed and Matt grabbed the pot. "I'll wash that stuff. You get some rest." With a hand between shoulder blades he gives the male a shove toward the living room.

Mello thought Matt was being a bit too motherly, but his side is killing him. He nodded a 'thanks' then headed for the bedroom. Matt watched the male, a small smile on his face. It was really nice having someone around to hang out with. He used to have friends but who knows what happened to them after school days were over. College. Moved. Whatever the thing was they were all gone and haven't tried to reconnect with him since. Its been a lonesome life, but he got by. Its not as if he needed anyone for anything, all the company he could ever want he's got in his game systems, and he must have every one made that has a game that's peeked his interest. And he has a wide interest. Most guys have book shelves, he has a game shelf. But the games have manuals, he too is very well read.

When the bedroom door closed, Matt ditched the dishes and dropped onto the couch to catch the tale end of the zombie movie before he got into his own on the PSP. As he'd admitted to Mello, a while ago, he'd fallen fast asleep right there. His players were mutilated a long time ago and the game remained on in his sleep. Mello had dropped off to sleep the moment his head hit the pillow and the surprisingly gentle scent of cigarette drifted up his nose from Matt's pillow beneath his head. The house lay quiet, nothing but the soft sounds of breathing coming from either male. Now and then a creak or bang would echo through the still air from the home or an item within it settling in for the night. There was one sound completely out of place in the city below the apartment, and that was the sound of a woman screaming as her worst nightmares have come true in the form of something just grotesque and hideous that snapped and clawed at her pulling her away into the darkness that fell over the sleeping town. But when you're asleep and in your own dream, things like that just don't come in...

Morning came, and Mello and Matt rushed around the apartment eating and drinking at the speed a child would when getting ready for the first day of school and they knew the bus wasn't that far down the street from their home. The police called around 6 a.m. telling him that they didn't see his car in the forest and there weren't exactly signs of an accident either. It was both bizarre and lazy on the police forces side. But then it dawned on him that he hadn't exactly told Matt where the accident had taken place. Who knows where the tour guide had sent the cops. Not only that, but Mello suddenly remembered the farmer he'd come across on his way in and that the man said he would tow his car from the forest for him. And so the two hurry off to retrieve Mello's missplaced phone and other items from the car.

Anchor-woman: A body has been found, earlier this morning, by the lake. Like a few other victims recently found, the body has extreme burn marks all over the skin. Police believe that its been done by the same person who is repsonsible for killing victims by decapatation only now they've changed the M.O. to fire.

Matt turned the television off just as quickly as it had unknowingly been turned on and after grabbing his keys from the hanger by the door they're in the car and headed down the street. The drive over was in silence. Each of the men lost in thought. Mello has a lot that needs to get done today starting with locating the city dumps main office so that he can get to work. Apartment hunting will have to come later, if Matt didn't mind driving him around a little while longer. This transfer was proving to be more work than needed, exhausting too. But considering how he used to live this was nothing. Only difference is that normally he's not banged up.

The city with its people and buildings eventually turned to grass, trees, and dirt road. The change was almost drastic, like peeking into a music box with a telescope that's surrounded by wilderness, one shift to the right and the tiny box would be gone.

"Its this way," Mello points a finger off to the left.

The car moved steadily along the road crushing and imprinting tiremarks over any bit of natural life it came into contact with, thankfully none of it an animal of any kind. And before Mello could say "there it is", the car slowed to a stop outside of the farmer's house. Climbing out, Matt bringing up the rear of his pace to the front door, Mello raised his fist and gave the door a good pounding to alert the man that he had visitors.

"Hello?" The blond called out. No reply. Banging again, he looked around the area while waiting for the door to open. He doesn't see the smashed rental but he can see the tail end of the tow-truck from around the side of the home. Walking around that way, Mello called out again. "Hello?"

The engine is running. But arriving at the window he discovers that the truck is empty. The guy must be inside, or maybe out on the stretch of land someplace.

Matt could tell this was going to turn into a manhunt, but he had a much faster solution and strolled over to the back door twisting the knob. The door opened to him and he pushed it forward. "Mel," He called to the blond.

Mello walked over to Matt assuming that the man had opened it to the red head but instead saw no one waiting beyond the opened door.

"I don't think he's home. Let's go inside and see if he took your stuff out of the car. He could have dropped it off somewhere to be fixed."

Mello hadn't thought of that and moved forward into the house. Afterall, the man offered to help him. Its not as if he's a stranger exactly, they've met, the farmer agreed to help him out. Whats a little breaking and entering between aquaintances? Mello's nose scrunched up instantly upon entering. The house smelled of old milk and sleep- a very deep sleep. His boots made a terribly loud thud with each step he took. It was like a steady heartbeat picking up when he spotted his cell phone sitting atop the television. The oldman must have been holding onto it for him since he didn't know if he'd be back or not. Mello scanned the top of the set for the car key but didn't find it. Although it would make sense if the man brought the car into town to get it fixed. Heading back through the living room to the kitchen where he'd come from, Mello came to an abrupt pause; taken by surprise of a long shadow casting down the stairs he takes a few steady steps over that way to peer up. Just as he had suspected, the farmer is standing at the top of them looking down into the living room- well, as much of the living room as he could see- not moving.

"Thanks for getting the car. I've got my cell too." He waved the phone for the man to see. There was no movement not jarring, noticeable movement anyway. But he was swaying in his stand. "You left your truck running..." Now he's just making small talk. But still he gets no reaction. Cocking a brow at how odd it is, Mello decides to take his leave and without so much as a goodbye he walked out of the house. If the man wants his privacy he can have it.

"Get what you needed?" Matt asked. He looked guilty of being caught sniffing around the running vehical for theft.

"Yeah." He took one last look at the place before climbing back into Matt's car with him. "Do you know where the city dump is?"

"I might have gone by there a couple times." Matt's voice seemed a bit more relaxed. The farm house must have been getting under his skin as well. He didn't have to be inside to see the owner of the home glaring down the stairs at him.

Mello wondered for a second how long the farmer had been standing there? Then why the man didn't say anything even when he'd spoken to him.

"Its a ways away in Palleville."

That sounded good to Mello because he'd planned on finding a place in Palleville anyway. Its like killing two birds with one stone.

...

"We were beginning to think that you weren't gonna show." His new boss; a skinny little slip of a person, with a thick black beard that did nothing for his thin face, and balding head with the basic horseshoe pattern of black hair going around it. "You've been assigned truck 234, and here is your route." He handed the male a sheet of paper with the listings of the homes whose trash cans will be emptied by him.

Mello skimmed it.

"You start work tomorrow so you can ride around today and get a feel for the place since you're new to the area." He sticks out a large bony hand. "You've got Fridays and Tuesdays off, and on Sunday you come in at noon." He shakes Mello's hand firmly. "We shouldn't have any problems as long as you get your job done."

"Right." Removing his hand from his new boss's.

Mello leaves the small office entering into the main part of the building. Once he's beyond the main doors he heads back to Matt's car. The red head said he'd give him a tour of the place and he could stay at his apartment for as long as it takes before he got his own place. The car engine revvs and they back slowly from the area leveling out with the street before the car is driven at a regular pace to who knows where, that Matt had planned on taking him. At least he doesn't have work until tomorrow.


	3. 99 Missunderstood

Mello has never been much on history. In fact, in school it had to be his worst subject because most of the time he wasn't interested enough to read the passages to do the assignments. But when Matt began his tour of old town from behind the wheel of his car, Mello's attention went from locating the homes on his new route to listening attentively to what his new friend is telling him.

Prior to the 17th century, the area where Silent Hill was established was home to an unnamed Native American tribe that used the land for rituals. At the end of the century, settlers arrived and founded the town; shortly thereafter, they began to rapidly die off. The deaths were attributed to an epidemic, and Brookhaven Hospital was built to treat those affected. Eventually the settlers fled the town, leaving it abandoned for nearly a century, until it was resettled as a penal colony in the early 19th century. Twenty years later, another epidemic broke out, and Brookhaven Hospital was rebuilt and reopened. In the 1840s, the prison was closed, and the town once more abandoned; in the 1850s, coal was discovered there by another wave of settlers, and it became a bomtown.

Mello could bet that the town became an overnight sensation with coal being its number one resource to that. And then they built the Lakeside amusement park with the money, Lakeview hotel. They got major franchise places to build in their location, the Shell Gas Station, Happy Burger etcetera. The beach is pretty popular.

But there are still times when the towns people can hear whispers in the night telling of an anniversary of doom. A curse placed on the area by the Indians.

"Because of that, we always hold big town meetings near the time of the anniversary and pray for the rest of those who lost their lives." Matt concluded. "We want them to find peace and move on to a better life."

"And nothing's happened?" Mello, work schedule on lap, asked with attention on the important task official gone.

"Not that I know of, and I've lived here all my life."

Mello had to scoff hearing that. Some curse.

"After that came the mafias and gangs. They took over this town around the time that Central was first built and the mayor wanted to fill the new area up. Since the homes were empty practically of every town member, they decided to use the place to import and export drugs all over the states."

"Yeah?"

Matt nods. "The calls started coming in, from the remaining residents, about disturbances, missing people who were later found dead just from taking a walk in the wrong place at the wrong time. It got so bad that the cops decided to have a raid on the area when a U.C. reported about a big shipment. They called it a way of 'officially clearing out the problem'," He nodded when Mello's face showed realization to his words. The cops planned to kill them all. "There was a hush evacuation for the remaining people into Central after which point the bridge was raised to keep everyone in the city safe. Little did the cops know that a rival gang planned a raid that same day and boy was it a blood bath."

Mello could see it all, one crowd jumping another, rivals turned comrad in order to save themselves from the police force, but at the same time the gangs are firing on each other still while trying to get away with what little of their spoils they can. Amazing. From there Mello learned that the hospital was flooded with officer and gang member alike, there were no more rooms and anyone sent on to the next hospital died on arrival. Rumor has it that on quiet nights you can hear the screams and gunshots. The blond had to admit that he's damned impressed with the dark history of the peaceful place. Looking out of the passangers window beside him, he wondered for a second about that 'peace' he'd thought of before. He'd be an idiot to think like that when in truth it wasn't peace he saw when looking at the neighborhood but an eerie silence.

When the car rolled along to Central, Matt spoke of the American Civil War and how the town served as a 'prisoner of war' camp; after the end of the war, the building used to house prisoners was converted into a state penitentiary, and later on, Silent Hill became a resort town. Around the same period, a group of religious zealots founded a series of small doomsday cults based upon the eschatology of the unnamed Native American tribe which occupied the land before settlers arrived. Collectively referring to themselves as "The Order", the cults, each of whom worshipped a different sub-deity, practiced human-sacrifice and necromancy in an ongoing effort to resurrect "The God", an ancient deity which they believed would usher in an age of paradise by killing all humans. They nicknamed him The Executioner. To fund their efforts they took the approach of the mafias, and The Order dealt a psychadelic drug called White Claudia to the towns people and tourist to the area. It was great because the drug trade served to increase tourism to the town from the residents of surrounding areas, who traveled there to obtain White Claudia. The drug trade was eventually crippled in the midst of a war between The Order and local authorities in which members of The Order murdered several police officers. Its rumored that users of White Claudia often experienced hallucinogenic encounters with demons.

"Seriously?"

Matt shrugged. "I guess, but then I've been doing it for a long while, and I haven't had any hallucinations- not anymore. Maybe the first time..." He lowered his gaze from the road a minute saying. "I once saw my mother. She came for me in the night, and we went around town together." He smiled dryly. The corner of his lips began to twitch, and to console their itch he popped an unlit cigarette into his mouth. "I was raised by my grandmother because my mother was in the cult." He explained nerves back in check, and his easy voice is back in place of the one that started to vocally tremble a bit. "Anyway, they were shut down when the cops were killed and people started to go missing, only one time did someone return and they were all doped up on drugs so no one believed them about what happened. Could have been alien abduction for all the cops fucking cared."

Palleville, the town he planned to live in temporarily, has only recent dirt about it. Since the re-populating of it. A lunatic named Walter Sullivan, who became a seriel killer when his mother fell into a coma. Someone told him that the way to revive her would be to offer souls to bring her back and he had to kill 21 people to complete this ritual. The bastard killed 2 kids who were playing outside at night for a start, and from there on it was nothing but slaughter in the most brutal ways. The last people he killed before he died in prison was a family that lived out in the woods... the two younger boys would have been the last two people to kill before completing the ritual. Something happened that left them alive with nothing but flesh wounds and Walter was sentenced to life in prison. Next came the nightmare of a man named Beyond Birthday, he was the youngest boy in the cabin of Walter's final victims. Some say he became a seriel killer from trauma, others- people who knew him- say its because he was the devil himself.

"So what happened to them?" Mello asked, hardly keeping the bewilderment from his expression after hearing about all the deaths in the resort town, honest curiosity in his question.

"Walter was beaten to death in prison, Beyond... well, that kid was different. Never really convicted but he spent a lot of time in court and in the nuthouse. " He grinned impishly, his tone lowering to a ghostly degree. "I heard that the kid grew up and continued killing somewhere out in the forest."

The car pulled to a stop; the gentle rock of the vehical snapped Mello out of his thoughts of the lanky, stringy man he'd seen in the forest. The one who'd been bashing into his car with sheer unearthly strength.

"People have said that he died about a year ago, that he became the devil himself because when Beyond was born he had red eyes. Others say that he died and was ressorected as The Executioner." Seeing the serious expression of fear creeping up on Mello's face, the tour guide laughed. That was the expression he'd been waiting for. Everyone, young or old, boy or girl, loved a good ghost story especially when they have such a supernatural twist to them, making it sound as if it were true. Honestly, Walter was killed in prison. As for the reincarnation of The Ghostly Executioner, he's living in England with his older brother. At least that's what he's come to understand. He'd met the older brother once, nice guy, a bit to himself when not tossing out opinions. He took a tour with him when he came into town, mostly wanted to know where a good hotel was during his brothers trial. Now he's just a ghost story told to keep kids in line.

Following the red heads lead, Mello exits the car shutting the door after himself. His teal gaze scanned the areas buildings and street tags before landing on the reason they've stopped. Its a medium sized building in front, but it looks as though it gets larger in the back.

Matt is in the backseat of the car rummaging around for something, when he exits he spots Mello craning his neck upward as if to see something on the roof of the place. "This is the History museum but," He ended dramatically, paused as he slips into a solid black zipper-hoodie, with blue and black striped sleeves before handing an identical red and black striped one off to Mello. "don't get too comfortable because its gonna be torn down and made into a boathouse."

Mello said nothing to this and instead looked over the garment in his hands, smiling as a clump of stripes has been thrown his way yet again. He was glad his chocolate fetish wasn't as obvious as Matt's love of stripes. Pulling the zip-up around his body he zips it only halfway as the chill hasn't gotten to him quite yet. Following his friend inside, Mello can't help but notice a good amount of wear and tear on the place.

"Why don't they board this place up- at least to save on cleaning from the vandals."

Matt scoffed, shaking his head he asked. "Are you kidding? Until they overhaul, this place is a hang out for potheads, drunks, sexaholics, you name it."

"Oh really?" He replied half interested. "And which one are you?" He sports a knowing smile seeing Matt light the cigarette which he'd only been holding captive between his lips, but now it seemed the stick were in for a fiery torture- granted it were alive.

Blowing out a puff of smoke, he replied blandly. "Unzip and I'll show."

Mello looks around the room, Matt's comment ignored. The museum wasn't all that bad looking, broken, dusty, but not bad. A bit smaller than most that he's used to. His mother had taken him to one several times when he was a boy. He didn't much care for being there, but being with her was always a nice time. Walking around, lightly fingertipping the items in the room Mello got a sense of still in the air. It wasn't calm, just still. Like the air were laced with weights that you could not see. Probably because of all the dust and cobwebs. Which right then he ran into. Spending a moment brushing the tingly, sticky feeling from his face he looked about the darkness for Matt when asking.

"Tell me something about this place?" He had to get some sound into the air or he'd go mad just that quickly. And for a tour guide he sure shut off pretty fast. Probably whipped out his handheld without him noticing.

"Read the plaques. I'm on my break." Replied the red head who's leaning against a cracked, but not broken through, display case.

Scoffing in mock offense, Mello strides over to one of the larger statues in the room. "Don't expect a tip." He mentioned to the slacker while polishing a plaque to read its inscription. Its a statue of a gooddess of the new world.

A flowing gown covers a very grim looking woman's body. The next thing he looked at was a model of a ship placed within a broken case. It was beautifully done. The inscription read: 1000's died that day. We will never forget the Saint Worshiper. Not all of it was grim, though. A few abstracts caught his eye, and for a moment he pictured one on the wall of his apartment back home, but naah. Cleaning it would be a real bitch. All this art, delicately done, carved, painted, sculpted... all of it is unappreciated as nothing more than an eyesore by the buildings new inhabitants. The next painting is so weird looking, but he can't really tell what it is that he's looking at. It looks like a triangle, but one made out of lumps or spheres. Something else in the painting looks like a long blade, but again its very beaten and worn. Checking the plaque he reads: Execu- but the rest is cut off.

_'What is this towns obsession with death?'_ He wonders to himself. Spotting a door which he assumed leads to another part of the museum Mello grabs the knob before looking over his shoulder to ask Matt. "Where does this lead to?" His head whipped back around to look at the door knob which he had abruptly released when the chipped gold knob gave the gentlest turn within his grasp.

"Afriad of spiders?" Asked Matt, appearing as if like magic at Mello's side.

Mello stepped aside when Matt reached for the door knob to brush it off before latching onto it himself.

"This is an office but," Giving the door two hard jerks before releasing the knob, he added. "No one can get in there because its locked, jammed and can't be opened. Probably swelled shut years ago from the heat. I've never seen anyone get in there."

He had to question anyone being in there, though. He could swear that the knob had turned in his hand. Where he gave it a gentle twist something on the otherside gave it a firm jerk farther around as if it would open- if it could. Reaching out for the knob again, Mello jumps a bit when Matt's hand lands on his shoulder.

"Ready to go?"

"..Yeah."

But as they exit the building, he couldn't help his attention from going over his shoulder at the thing one last time.

It has gotten colder since they went in. Mello zipped the jacket completely up to his chin, but left the hood down since they'd be in the car for the ride back to Matt's and hopefully the male would put on the heat.

"This is what sucks about living so close to water, the fog is ridiculous." Matt mentions absently, climbing into the car after stomping out the butt of his thoroughly smoked cigarette.

He didn't have to tell Mello about ridiculous fog. He experienced it first hand as he walked through the forest and into the ghost town. Mello had to touch his side as the memory of those hellhounds came back into thought.

"Rosewater park leads to Central, by the way." Matt says to him with a casual tone. "It cuts right over the lake."

Mello wondered why he would need to know something like that, but since the comment made no difference to him it made no sense to comment on it. "I think that farmer might be on something." Mello says instead, just to be conversational.

"Probably grows weed."

"Mm." Spotting the laptop in front of him resting on the dash. Mello reached for it. "Do you mind if I use this?"

"Go ahead."

Lifting the screen and turning on the power, Mello watched Matt's hand snake over to his side of the seat landing on the keys of the laptop. He tensed when the male, who hadn't taken his eyes from the road, pressed the computer into his lap by typing in his password. He muttered a 'thank you' when the hand was removed, receiving a simple sound of acknowledgement for it.

The car slowed over a speed bump, and without looking up from what he's doing Mello could tell that they've stopped at a fast food restaurant. Glancing up after Matt ordered 2 chicken sandwiches and fries, a Coke which had to be changed to a root beer since they only served Pepsi there. He wondered if McDonalds knew that Happy Burger had ripped off their golden arches. Returning his attention to the laptop, he continued his search for an apartment to rent. It would have to have all the amentities furniture, appliances etcetera. He can't afford to buy knew things and he certainly isn't staying here. A part of him wondered if Matt would care about that, but he decided that he didn't need to know. Matt seemed content at just being anywhere with anyone, why should his place in Mello's life matter?

...

"Put that away for now," Matt said when the cranking of the mouse's roller went off for the eigth time. "You can stay at my place as long as you like." Matt had to say something because the blond hadn't even touched his food, and he was sure he'd heard the tell tale growling of a stomach at one point.

They are sitting in the car which is parked at the park- not Rosewater but a smaller park within the center of Paleville. Normally, like in the hot weather months, you could hear the fountain clear to the road, but now there is nothing but the sound of a few people talking to each other and the occassional car going by. But after a few minutes, the fog had gotten so thick you'd think that the townspeople have been swallowed up and eaten by it. Eventually the cars stopped coming by, the skaters silenced, not a single screaming child, or spotted lovers kissing in the distance. Just the two of them walled up inside the red Plymoth.

Having come away from his focused searching, Mello had to think about Matt's words for a moment. He already told himself eleven million times that he will not buy a home to live in this town like he were stuck. Staying with Matt would be cheaper than renting a place as well. But no, he couldn't impose on Matt like that. Its a fun idea, but truthfully, a man needs his own space.

"Just one more night, but after that" He points to the screen. "I'll be living in the Blue Creek apartment building. I'll give you the room number when I get it."

"Hn." Matt commented thoughtfully. "Why you'd wanna live two hours from Central is beyond me."

"I've got a thing for pool," Mello points a finger in the general direction where he'd seen a large sign that read pool hall/bar.

"I don't play ameteurs. Try not to be so busy when I wanna hang out with you. Okay?"

"Yeah." Mello decided then to partake of the food that his sense of smell has been nibbling on for the past ten minutes.

Having limited experience in talking civily with people, he figured eating would be a well enough distraction. The longest conversations he's ever had were with one to ten of the dogs in his town, and they all had his fist within an inch of busting their nose up, while the other hand kept a choking grip on their shirt collar.

Face set in disgust, he mutters over the bite of food. "Fuck. Its cold." Tossing the remains of the cottony frie back with the others, he reached for his watered down root beer to remove the taste.

"Hmhm." Matt snickered softly. "You've only got a 4 minute margine before that microwave heat wears off." Turning the key in the ignition to start the car, he says then. "We'll go back to my place and heat it up." Tossing his empty contents into the white logo printed bag, he handed it off to Mello so that he could place his untouched meal inside.

When Matt had said "heat it up" _this_ wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind. But hearing Mello's whispy pants into the large soft arm of the couch, turn into grunts and very voiced moans under his command, Matt wasn't going to complain. Mello arched his back, his longish hair fanned out and over Matt's shoulder; sending tickles up the red head's spine, before the back of his head rest there. Matt grunted in pleasure feeling Mello's body tighten around him when he'd straightened up, and his arm wraps firmly around his houseguest torso pressing his back to his chest.

The gamer's nimble fingers cruised up Mello's side before he ran his palm roughly down to the delicate hip bone that was dying to be held; but his hands want more than a firm grip, they want to explore every bit of the male while they still can. Planting kisses on Mello's bony but firm shoulder; his hand caressed carelessly up and down the blond's side, until a distressed hiss reminded him that Mello is wearing medical tape after having had a trip to the hospital yesterday. So he settled for running his hand up and down the male's gaunt thigh. The wrapping should have been a red flag that Mello is injured, but you try keeping a clear head when Mello's got his tongue in your mouth. Not an easy thing, Matt can tell you.

Mello's hand grips onto the back of Matt's head, fingers tangled in the franticly placed red crop of hair, keeping them close together during their kiss; as if the gamer would have pulled back. Though thinking about it, as for how they came to be on the couch like this: disheveled, glistening with a sheen of sweat from their combined heat and the heavy air in the room, a human knot panting and groaning, and _very_ connected was a mystery to them. But if Matt had to take a guess, he would figure it was when Mello came into the kitchen, only seconds after himself, and moved him from infront of the sought out microwave. Noticing that Mello was sandwiched between himself and the counter, Matt felt something take over him but not completely sure of what egged him on, Matt raised his hands so that they rested on the counter top trapping the male in place, where he then leaned in and claimed the blond's mouth with his own. The kiss went from curious to demanding, hungry at the pull of being engulfed to overpowering with want to show off. But regardless of leadership through the mouth, Mello gave his body to Matt completely and his hips and crotch received the grind session in full. The red head's hands left the counter in place of a better location, and they surfed through the ocean of the blond's longish mane.

Mello made the first move to expose flesh; their black hoodies were removed at the door long ago when they came in, so there was nothing much between them but easy to remove jeans and season heavy shirts. His first and then Matt's, Mello undid the buttons and zippers on their jeans after that he reached in to pull out the hidden meat with a grace that was completely natural and comfortable, as if this sort of thing went on between them often. Why act shy or coy when a good-looking guy wants you just as badly as you suddenly want him, you go with it. The feeling that rushed through them when their semi-erect members touched erutped a groan from one male's mouth to the other. If the sounds were living breathing things they would have exploded from sudden impact of bumping into each other, and Matt's caressing hip movement became damn near starved for the offered meal as he brushed up against Mello with a sturdy purpose. The counter's edge was unfelt murder on the blond's backside leaving a faint strip of light red bruising as Mello was repeatedly shoved into it when he shoved himself off of it.

But again, how point A got from point B... The trail of clothes gave their path away. Shirts abandoned at the kitchen exit, belts by the coffee table, boots next to the couch. For some reason their jeans never fully made it off of their person, but all of its material is out of the way of the desired parts of the other person and the denim rest bunched beneath their bent legs. It was nice touch, though, when they stood on their knees on the seat of the couch; Mello had since been spun around facing away from the red head, and the movement from their rocking brushed the jeans along their thighs and backsides.

Their mouths found each other again when Mello turned his head; their exhausted breaths had to forgive them because the two refused to give up an ounce of relief so they could catch themselves to calm down. Mello moves his hips slowly up and down over Matt's shaft, up only about an inch or two, so drawn into the kiss that he can't focus much on manual movement anyplace other than his mouth. The gentle bounce was driving the red head insane, though, and leaning his weight down over Mello's back he pushed the blond forward over the arm of the couch again, gripping the submissive male's hips before proceding to give him a good deep thrusting. And Gods it was good. Mello hadn't felt this familiar fire in the pit of his stomach since he experimented with a friend who didn't mind giving blowjobs. But this isn't a blowjob in his father's basement, and he's no longer an awkward 14 years old wondering how to respond to pleasureful touches.

He was sure that with Matt's lack of finnesse- though lubricated, the male did sort of just shove himself right into his body once they'd hit the couch- he'd be feeling it badly later on. But for right now, its nothing but divine pleasure mixed with only a momentary, yet good, pain. He heard his voice swear of its own accord during a mind bending palming massage of his balls, and he rocked his hips back into the treatment. But the blinding light came from just the briefest pinches left upon his right nipple, and he would have begged for Matt not to stop if the hand on his chest didn't get promoted to running circles around the slit of his burning erection. Mello would never call gaming a waste of an active life again, if it taught the red head to touch like this. Matt's breaths pant into Mello's neck, and he smiled a bit when the blond hummed over a dry voice when his tongue ran along the vein throbbing in his neck. Having someone be so responsive is a headrush, he feels almost powerful in the appreciation of his movements, and kicked it up a notch by jerking the leaking meat in strong, firm movements until Mello's body lurched and convulsed beneath him.

Surges of pleasure dug Mello's fingernails into the couch, and his teeth clenched to keep him from screaming out like a bitch in heat because its been too long since he's felt, or let anyone touch him this intimately. He's never so much as been hugged since his mother's death. Matt's moan brought him back from his slowly failing senses, which only made the chills up his spine and the loss of his breath that much more pronounced. He's sinking fast. But Matt seems to be closer than he is, as the steadily tightening hole gives him more and more resistance when he tries to move in and come out. Pound after pound became slower and thicker, the strokes along Mello's shaft imitating the movement until both men let go... So maybe the 'how' isn't so much important as the 'why' did this happen. But neither of them cared, not in the least as they lay in a panting heap trying to recapture their senses.

After about 4 minutes of rest, there was Matt all ready and with a stick in hand, zipped up, and tugging his goggles from around his neck over his head tossing them onto the coffee table before shoving the thin white stick into his mouth. "Mind if I smoke?" He chuckled after looking down at the mess of a man laying somewhat on his lap, unbuttoned and still exposed to the world. Mello's head on the seat cushion while his lap is draped over his own.

"Go ahead." This conversation would turn into 'their thing', if Matt didn't take the hint that Mello could careless if he smoked around him. Whether it be here, or a diner, or the back of his car. Mello doesn't care.

"Thank you- and zip up," He adds when the flame jumps to life from his lighter. "you look like my nameless whore."

Laughing, Mello shifts himself around on the couch, talking to Matt as he does this, arranging the borrowed clothing into a more tasteful state on his person. "Let's see, you barely know me and we just had sex." Sitting up properly on the seat, he kicks his feet up onto the coffee table. "I'd say that qualifies me as your whore."

Matt smiled at the notion of having Mello to take whenever he pleased, but instead he blew out a large cloud of smoke. "Want some?"

Noticing that the smell is anything but nicotine, Mello declines.

"Suit yourself," The words clouded out of Matt's mouth, and he shrugged. "And my bad for being in a rush." He waved the smoking stick around Mello's genitalia. It looked like he was weaving signs at him.

Readjusting his seat as that very pain was calling for attention, Mello replied. "It'll pass." Though it has him momentarily pinned in place, and honestly if it didn't he'd of gotten up to use the shower as he can feel Matt's sticky release still inside of him.

After a while things grew quiet. Mello wasn't sure which did it to him the hardest, the low sound of blowing Matt was doing to release the smoke from either his mouth or nostils, the silence, or the constant flicking of the red head's lighter; decorated with some kind of bat looking monster. He'd been looking at it for minutes trying to make it out better, but his drooping eyes won over his curiosity and he slumped over to the empty side of the couch, fast asleep.

It was one of two things that jarred Mello out of his heavy coma-like sleep, and that was a hot seering pain on his back and the left side of his face, or the loud insane sound of a scream. But coming to his senses made the heat a lot more pronounced, and the weight on his body caused momentary panic, but he bounced whatever it was to the floor before furiously smacking at himself as if he were putting out a fire. Bad idea. Mello cried out in pain as he slapped hard onto a blister just above his eye. Shaking the blur from his vision, and the sleep cobwebs from his mind Mello looks around the room and in an instant he prayed that he was still asleep.

The heat in the room was coming from all around him. A large black cloud hovered overhead like a personal thunderstorm that was ready to strike with bolts of lightning at any moment. He didn't see the source of the fire though, just a lot of smoke. Coughing into his fist, Mello set about locating the high-pitched screamer and his blood ran cold. There on the floor flailing madly, and smacking at invisible flames, is Matt. Taking in his friend's appearance, Mello was sure that all the stop drop and roll in the world wouldn't make a difference now. Every handsome feature that made up the male's face was unrecognisable through a cluster of puss filled blisters, and flaking, shriveled black skin.

Snapping out of his stupor, Mello dropped to the floor. "Matt!?" He winced hard from the pain that racked over his entire body. He hadn't felt that pain since that dream about being mauled by those hellhounds. It was almost crippling, but he ignored it as best he could in order to come to Matt's aid. "Just hold on, Matty." He touched a clump of exposed hair, wishing that he hadn't when the singed hair fell away from the scalp.

Mello rushed into the kitchen, stumbling over their boots or maybe it was the coffee table, who the hell could really tell. He grabbed a large cup from the upper cabinet and filled it with water from the sink. Hurrying back into the living room he dumped the water over Matt's face, unsure of what he thought would happen once done, but he knew he would need more. A single cup of water definitely wasn't going to do it. The smoke has gotten thicker now, and its nearly impossible to see. Breathing is even harder, and if he had to pick one over the other , Mello would be strapped up to a damned oxygen tank that would last him a year and three months. Moving forward, arms extended to feel his way around, he searches for the window. He knows where it is, but is unsure if he can get to it without running into the source of the fire. The heat in the air is overwhelming and the fire could be any place in the apartment.

Having another fit of coughs, he realized that Matt was no longer screaming in pain, so he put a lot more steam into his desire to locate the window. When his fingers stabbed into the glass, he smiled for the briefest second over the victory. Jerking the window open was a dumb idea in itself as the smoke came rushing his way, and he nearly threw-up choking on the smoke while he leaned heavily out of the window hoping for some fresh air that didn't come. Turning back into the apartment, Mello knelt down to pick up the burned male.

"Dammit, dammit, don't do this!" He said channeling a dramatic scene from television. "Stay with me!"

He had to bare with the heat coming from Matt's body, and the pain coming from his own. His ribs were crying murder in his senses. But it had to be put aside as he hefted Matt from the floor like he were nothing but a rag doll. And as limp as his body has become he very well could have been. The weight is no problem for him, he feels his way around the room for the location of the bedroom, he's used to shoving around 300 to 500 pound garbage dumpsters. So little Matty was nothing by far. Thankfully the smoke hadn't completely blotted out the bedrooms visual, and he easily found the bathroom door and hurried to it after shoving his foot against the bedroom door to keep the smoke out for as long as he could.

The tub would make the perfect place for Matt to... well, he's not really sure what will happen but its better than doing nothing. Laying the male in the tub, he rubbed the rosary around his neck furiously begging to someone, anyone, that Matt is only unconscious and not dead. Turning the faucets, he watched the water rush into the tub. That should do it. Pressing down on the drain stopper, it sticks into place allowing the water to fill the white tub. Feeling assured that Matt will at least- something- Mello decided to brave the living room again in order to locate his phone, and the fire. Hopefully he can put it out and call an ambulance at the same time. Damn it, but he wished he had put his shirt back on. It could have helped filter the smoke away while he breathed. On hands and knees, he crawled along patting at the floor until he felt his fingers brush against the cool metal of his phone. Picking it up, he feels around the room hoping to find some kind of flame... mabe its not even coming from Matt's place but another one of the apartments. But then how did Matt get burned.

_'Crazy fool must have gone out to help.'_ Thought Mello dialing for an ambulance. You wouldn't see that kind of kindess in his city. You were on your own and that was that.

A thump over by the bedroom caught the male's attention, distracting him from seeing what was coming down overhead. And receiving a hard pop to the head, Mello hit the floor unconcious. The apartment hummed with the sound of mumbling fire, filled from wall to wall with smoke, and over the phone a woman's voice called out. 'Hello?' 'Hello?'

...

Blinking, the first thing that Mello noticed was that the vision in his left eye is gone. Maybe not gone, but something is blocking him from seeing with it. Reaching a hand up he touches the soft white bandage gauze. The wrap went around his head, and he could feel a lot more of it along his back also on the left. What the hell happened? Closing his good eye, he thinks as hard as he can to recall the past events that brought him here. His mind is cloudy, thick and heavy... He remembers sleeping... sleeping and, he was awakened by an intense heat. There was smoke everywhere, his lungs could actually remember how thick the air was. It had burned with every intake of breath.

_'There was smoke everywhere. ...It was a fire, but... not in Matt's place. It must have been at the neighbors, smoke travels quickly enough.'_ Rubbing his exposed eye with agitation, he tried to keep himself awake but Mello knew that laying down wouldn't help him, so he struggled onto his better side to assist him in sitting up. _'And what happened to Matt? If I'm here that's great but did the paramedics get there in time to help him?'_

A low groan escaped his mouth, but he'd managed to prop himself up against the headboard all the same. His head is pounding like someone beating a steady rhythm on a base drum. Placing his hand to the right side of his head, he tries to pinch the pain away, or at least calming it. His heart is beating rather quickly too. It feels like its trying to pass through his rib cage, but it can't.

A nurse walked past the room, clipboard in her hand and at a pace that said she had somewhere to be, but when glancing into his room she stopped in her tracks. Plastering a smile on her face, she turns herself into his room walking right up to the bed. "Looks who's awake, finally." Her attention went to the chart at the end of the bed, picking it up she wrote down what was on the monitor beeping beside him. "How do you feel?" She asked in a sweet tone.

Mello wanted to spit the sugar out of his mouth, but rather than make a bold gesture that her kindness was unwanted, he asked in a dry, rough voice. "Where's Matt?" He'll tell her about the headache later, but right now priority was priority.

"Matt?" She wonders out loud over the name. But it seemed that she didn't recognize it, so she went back to checking his stats. Once done, she pulled a flash light from her uniforms pocket, and walked around to the side of the bed. "I'm gonna need you to follow this light." She said before reaching for the cover over his left eye.

Smacking her hand away as if it were a poisonuos snake, he grabbed a handfull of her pale green cardigan and jerked her closer to him so he could hiss at her, rather than shout with a voice he can't seem to muster. "Screw you lady, and answer the damned question. Where. Is. Matt?"

Appauled, she pulled herself free with much effort and after straightening her clothes, she answers. "I'm not certain of whom you're speaking of. No Matt anything has come in."

"That's a lot of bullshit lady, and you know it." He grabbed his aching chest. He can feel exhaustion sweeping over him.

The woman moved closer, regardless her growing frustration with the snippy patient, and she did her job by soothing his pains. And by sooth them, she slipped his removed oxygen mask back on. "You've inhaled a lot of smoke, you should keep this on until the doctor gives you the OK."

Mello rolled his eyes.

"I'll check around for you about your friend, but for now, please listen to what I'm asking of you." Again the flash light is produced.

Annoyed, Mello follows the blinding beam left, right, up, and down, even diagonal until the woman is satisfied and turns it off with an audible click. He couldn't help himself, and went on to say. "He's got red hair. He was burned all over, though, so you might not notice that."

"I told you, that I'll check. We have many people in intensive care who fit that description. Even if you told me his eye color, I don't think that it would help much."

"Would you look now, please?"

He said 'please'. What more did she want? Dinner and a movie. He'd offer it up too if it would get him news about his friend. The nurse left the room, heading down the hall to where she had been planning to go before her detour into the rude patients room. Mello stared out of the door for what seemed like hours, and during that watch dog posture he'd taken, the blond fell asleep, waking up whenever someone came into the room to check on him. It was late by the time Mello woke up, and stayed up. The sun is just starting to set. He had to get out of this damned bed and get to the front desk. Surely they would know where Matt is. Although he had to remind himself, as he stripped the cords and things from his person, that Matt's real name is Mail Jeevas.

On trembling legs, the blond moved out of the room and into the hall. Its very quiet, nothing but distant sounds can be made out. Mostly of closing doors. Using the wall as sort of a cane, Mello makes his way to the elevator.

"Excuse me!" A woman's voice shouts from behind him. "Where do you think you're going?! Get back into your room!"

Mello picked up his shaky step when hearing the nurses sneakers creaking over the floor, at a faster pace than he was going. If he could just press the button. But the elevator doors slid open before him, and there stood a doctor in his long white coat, clipboard in hand. But not just a clipboard.

"Stop him doctor, he's trying to escape!" The nurse called from six feet away from him and closing in.

"What escape?" He bellowed over his shoulder. When he turned back to explain to the doctor as to why he had gotten out of bed, he was met with a syringe filled with some sort of clear liquid. "What did you..." Mello toppled forward in an instant, and hit the floor.

Though brought back to his room, the blond fought the sedative as hard as he could. It wasn't the first time he'd been under its effects. He went bat shit hysterical in the hospital when his mother was dying, and the doctors thought that he needed to 'calm it down'.

"Would you like something to eat, or drink?" The battle axe of a nurse asked him while keeping a firm hand planted on his chest to keep him from lurching forward to sit rather than lay in bed. "You've been on liquids for two days, you need to get some solid food into you."

"Two days?!" Unbelievable, Mello scoffed. This is a fine way to start a new life. Car accident, vividly mauled, and now he's losing the one person he's allowed into his life after such a long time of solitude. "Just get the fuck out. I don't want anything from you people." He hates hospitals. Doctors and nurses alike. They're nothing but a bunch of pill pushing, knife wielding, puppets to surgeries, and the lifestyle of playing god.

The nurse was hardly offended by the brash behavior of Mello's, she's seen it all. From poop throwing elderly, to the deluded minds of drug addicts who need to burn out trying to rape the staff that gets too close to their bed. Since when were hospitals for the emotionally unstable, she'll never know. But she's unmoved by aything other than a fat pay check, and the blond didn't seem the type to hand one out. So fuck him and his care. She'd send someone in to feed him, or not. What does she care, she gets off in the next 20 minutes. She got to the door when Mello called for her to stop.

"Yes, what is it now?"

"Mail Jeevas, was the name of the person in the apartment with me. You must know that he came in too. He was in the bathroom of the burning apartment with me."

"Burning apartment? There was no burning apartment."

"The apartment we were in wasn't directly on fire, but Matt- Mail," He corrected himself. "Got burned. One of the nurses said she'd check on him for me. How is he?"

"Mail Jeevas did come in with burns, but there was no fire."

_'Who cares about that part. How is Matt, stupid bitch.' _Mello yelled in fury.

The woman looked as though she'd heard what he'd thought, and with a small smile on her face she said to him. "Mail Jeevas is dead. Now stay put, you should be able to leave by morning." The woman turned around saying through the exit of the room. "Although, if you continue to deny food, you'll end up like your friend."

She turned off the lights in the room, closing the door behind her. Mello sat there in the deafening silence of the room, while inside he hears the woman's words on repeat. "Mail Jeevas is dead." Dead? Dead. It just couldn't be true.

Which is why when the place grew very silent. Moreso than when he'd first tried to escape 3 hours ago, Mello slipped out of bed again. He had to see. He had to know. He'd locate the morgue and look for his friend. He won't just take the word of some doctor. He didn't take it then about his mother, and he sure as shit won't take it now about Matt. But he had to take a detour to the bathroom, after finding a closet rather than the bathroom behind the first door he borrowed a cane that was concealed inside, then checked the other door. After relieving himself, he walks out of the bathroom and into the hall with little caution of being caught. He actually welcomed the fight with the way he feels now, but the sooner he could see a body for himself the better.

Mello was on the first floor wandering, unseen, down the hall of intensive care. He could hear someone talking hard, and serious about one of the patients so he positioned himself in a place where he could easily eavesdrop without being discovered.

"Its a wonder he made it here alive. Burns this bad... this young man should be dead." The doctor was saying.

"Maybe he's surviving on effort." A nurse wondered out loud.

"Get a hold of yourself, there is no such miracle." The doctor snipped. "Maybe the burn hasn't gotten as deep as we initially thought?"

Mello leaned forward hoping to get a peek at the body, when someone tapped him on his shoulder. He swung around looking for a fight, but his attack paused when seeing a young blonde nurse gesturing for him to follow her. She appeared harmless enough, but with guard up, he follows. The two step around the corner so they won't be heard by any of the doctors in the patient's room.

"Is that your friend in there?" The nurse asked. Her fingers are pinned together, one hand cupping the other, as if they were formed that way. "His name is Mail Jeevas?"

Mello nodded, wondering what was the point of secrecy.

The nurse let out a low sigh. "I've been assigned to watch over him until..." She trailed off knowing that Mello would figure out the rest. "My name is Lisa Garland," Her hand came out to shake his, but slowly returned to overlap the other when seeing that he wasn't going to budge. "I'm so sorry to tell you this but your friend is alive by sheer miracle. Honestly, he won't make it through the week."

"But he's alive right now?" Mello inquired.

"Yes."

"Then why did they tell me he was dead?" His voice began to raise. "I could be sitting in there with him."

"Yes, but the doctors here have a strict policy about patient care; and frankly, they told you that your friend was dead to keep you in bed. If you had gotten up and started wandering around, with the concusion you had, you could have hemorrhaged or collapsed from lack of proper oxygen."

Shaking his head, he waved a hand telling her to stop. "Stop it, okay? Just shut up... I don't care about these people's fears of being sued for malpractice. I just wanna see Mail."

Lisa seemed to be thinking that over as she looked from the room which held Matt back to a very ticked off Mello. "I'll see what I can do, but he isn't well. His lungs were full of black fluid from smoke inhalation, and the burn has taken away all of his fatty tissue. Again, sheer miracle is keeping him alive."

"...Fuck."

"You have some very nasty burns as well. But not nearly to Mr. Jeevas' extent." Lisa's gaze is on the patients door. "The doctors say that you can leave tomorrow, and I think its best that you do. We've called around for living relatives, but your friend has none. He'll need you to make the funeral arrangements for him."

Mello's head was in a spin right now, and the nurses words were barely coming in.

Funeral arrangements. Death. No living family. How does his life always end up coming back around to hospitals and death? Maybe he's a jynx. He should really consider cutting himself off from the world completely.

Seeing Mello charging down the hall, Lisa called out to him. "Where are you going?"

"If Matt's gonna die today or tomorrow, I at least want him to know that I was here with him."

"But you can't!" Though she made no move to stop him.

The enraged blond burst into the room, moving quickly over to Matt's bed with a look that threatened to put every doctor in the room in intensive care if they tried to stop him. Matt looked a distorted mess, bandages cover his entire body from head to toe. Not a shred of him was normal, flesh colored or anything. His body is so bad off there are lumps sticking up even through the wrapping. Mello can feel two larger ones pressed into his palm when taking Matt's hand into his own.

"Matt... I'm sorry. If I had gotten up sooner than maybe..." He trailed off unsure of what to say next. Honestly, he didn't think he could have helped Matt any. But what happened? "I know things must look really bad right now, but that doesn't mean that you're beat yet. I know you can fight this... You have to."

Clearing his throat, a doctor Mello all to easily recognized, placed a hand on his shoulder. "You shouldn't be out of bed, but if you insist on sitting with your friend at least wait until we take him into a patients' room."

Mello glared daggers at the man, he could fuck himself if he thought that he would listen to him and his staff of monkeys any longer. What kind of fucked up hospital lies about a patient being dead when they aren't? True, that nurse Garland said that Matt really didn't have much of a chance, but Mello wasn't about to give in or give up. Returning his attention to Matt, he's momentarily startled by Matt's gaze upon him. His eyes are intense and hard focused on Mello's face. It was as if he were trying to steal his soul, or pass his vision through his face. The burned victims grip on Mello's hand tightened as well. Is he trying to say something?

"Matt, what is it?"

A hard breath was drawn, it was so dry and strained that Mello felt a chill prickle his spine at the thought of his own throat being that damaged.

Doctor Kaufmann has seen enough. Shoving Mello aside, he bellowed at him. "Enough. Let us take him to a room, and you can see him to his end."

The nurses in the room help the man move the bed out into the hall.

"I should sue this place for poor bedside manner!" Mello shouted out the door after them. Walking to the door behind the slew of medical staff, he felt something wet in the palm of his right hand. Slowing himself, he turned his hand over slowly opening it. Blood. Thick and moist, staining his palm. Wiping it onto his pants, Mello took notice, just then, that he's wearing a hospital gown and little else. The blood stuck to his bare leg just as it had stuck to his palm, but he could always wash it off once he got to Matt's room. Walking into the hall, he watched the elevator numbers rise to the third floor, and when the door opened again he stepped inside pressing the button for that same floor.

How Mello missed anyone else on the elevator was beyond him. But he felt a wave of dizziness wash over his senses when the mechanical box moved up, it was so intense that he had to grip the hand rail to steady himself, and when the ride ended he went to step off, making it no farther than two steps before something hard and metal came into contact with the back of his head and he collapsed on the floor.


	4. I Can't Let You Have Your Way

That was the fourth nightmare Mello's had since leaving the hospital 2 weeks ago. That place is just so all consuming. The first dream happened while he was staying there. He dreamt that he woke up right in the middle of a surgery- _his_. And a bunch of nurses and doctors were gathered all around him poking him, and slicing into him with scalpals. Their hands dug deep into his torso pulling out his liver, intestines... his heart was merely squeezed mercilessly within one of their faceless grasp. Mello could still feel the pain of it all when his eyes snapped open and he found himself in the hospital bed. His heart rate jumped rapidly when he saw a nurse, the grouchy nurse, standing beside his bed checking a screen. She practically spat an apology at him about how she had to knock him out because he insisted on getting out of bed when she specifically told him to stay put. He meant to chew her out until he remembered that Matt had been moved to a room somewhere in the hospital. It seemed the nurse had ESP because, right then, she'd pointed to a bed beside his own. Matt resided there, unconcious but alive.

Its because Matt is alive, and nurse Garland said that he could visit whenever he likes, that he had to come back to the horrible hospital again and again. He's not sure how the male is holding on with the condition that he's in, but Matt's been alert everytime Mello has come in to see him. Its frightening, though, having Matt's blue gaze so intensley set upon him. Its as if the male really is trying to suck his soul away. That gaze... While at home, in his new move-in ready apartment in Blue Creek, Mello dreamt that he was being driven someplace by the tour guide; Matt was speaking to him but his words weren't coming in in english. He couldn't understand a word the red head was saying to him, but Matt looked happy all the same. It was after the male had leaned over to kiss him that Matt began pulling chunks of his own flesh out off of his body; the chunks lit on fire almost instantly, and were tossed into the air where they disintergrated into nothing but flittering embers to the back of the car. Mello watched this oddity with curious nerves. Matt seemed not to care about the fire slowly engulfing the backseat of his car, and just kept at pulling himself away. Mello reached out to the male, as if in plea that he stop, but Matt was snatched up in flames taking Mello with him.

Then there was the dream with Mello falling through the floor, landing in the basement in the hospital where a pile of roaches as large as his boots ganged up on him. Those damned things wouldn't go down no matter what was done to them. It wouldn't have bothered him so much if he didn't feel watched the entire time he was trying to take them out. Like some enormous presence loomed in the shadows to finish the job of killing him if the roaches couldn't manage it. He didn't die, though, he woke up before that part came to pass. But he did recieve some nasty bites and swells from those germy little fuckers. His most recent dream was of him sitting in a smoke filled room listening to sounds of people screaming beyond the bedroom door, and he couldn't or it seemed that he wouldn't do anything about it. He was safe within the bedroom, and so he stayed there. It was a weird emotion, being afraid. Mello isn't afraid of anything, so feeling his heart beat fast, his nerves prickle the hairs on the back of his neck, and cold shivers run up and down his spine was an unwanted foreign thing that made him wanna remain awake for as long as he could. And remaining awake seemed highly possible with the way life began to routine for him. He'd spend his mornings working, collecting trash from the city and returning it to the dump site. His nights, were spent with Matt, making sure the male at least knew that someone was there for him since the tour guide has no family. His mother appreciated it, and Matt seemed to as well. It was strange that the doctor said Matt could talk, harsh as it would come out with his damanged throat, but his friend never said a word. He didn't even smile at the lame jokes Mello offered. Matt just stared, and squeezed his hand to show that he was there. Nothing less, and nothing more.

Life became very mundane for Mello. Work. Hospital. Work. Hospital. He'd made one trip back into the city and that was to retrieve some clothes, and personal items that he'd left behind before moving out to the resort town. The city was the same: dirty air, great greasy food, stupid people. The usual. He got back into town sometime during the night. Going straight to the hospital he took Matt's hand, ready to tell him of this and that that happened during the day, but his friend was in a deep sleep, and it seemed that he would remain so for the duration of that night. Rather than stay, Mello decided to head out and detoured to do a little investigating at the History museum. He knows that someone had turned the knob from the other end of that door, there's no mistaking something like that. Which is why he found himself back at the place, a crowbar at his aid and a lockpick for just incase. It was for amusement. He doesn't know anyone in town but Matt, and he's clearly out of the question for entertainment. Chatting with people has never really been his thing, so why not do a little breaking and entering. Matt even said that people are in and out of the place all the time for their own purposes.

Its completely different at night, the entire room is blackened out. A few white tiles tried to come into view when his eyes adjusted to the solid dark, but it was hardly worth noticing. He would have used his pen-light but he doesn't want to draw unwanted attention to himself, though, he must look pretty damned weird to anyone who might be hiding in the shadows; his arms stretched out as he tries to feel for the display cases, statues, and other objects in the room so he doesn't trip into them. He would never make it as a blind man. Proof of that thought came when he clipped his hip against a display case which caused him to stumble forward right into the sought out door. Crowbar in place, Mello leans all his weight on it, shoving it deep beyond the boarder of the door frame. The wood creaked before splinting a bit; one more push should do it. Yes!

Mello looks over his shoulder, he thought he heard something. But when listening for a moment he figured that he was mistaken as not a single thing in the room so much as a room settling pop. Now was not the time to lose focus. Stepping through the entrance, he lifts the penlight attached to the beltloop on his jeans. The beam isn't large enough to provide any real comfort, but its definitely enough to make things out for him. A long flight of stairs lay before Mello's gaze, and he took a cautious step down them. One hand on the slick stone wall, turned green by mold and age, making the wall more cold than it should have been but then the seasons are nearing winter. Mello should have worn a heavier coat, but he didn't bring anything beyond a tiny leather zip-up. He didn't think he'd be going into an outright crypt. You know how it is when you're being nosy: open a door, find an office as, Matt had said, he'd look around and get bored then leave. Stairs just didn't make sense.

_'I wonder how far down this goes.'_ Mello looks over his shoulder when a loud groan sounds behind him- strike that- the sound is all around him. _'What is that?'_ He wonders, his movement ceases so that he can listen to the sound a little better. Back pressed against the cold stone wall, he tries to figure where the sound is coming from, up or down. _'Sounds like a boat horn.'_ Mello decided, turning to walk down the stairs the rest of the way.

The noise wasn't bothering him if anything it was helping him sneak about; but that also meant it would help in hiding the sounds of anything else moving around in the catacombs, should it not stop. Mello had started counting the stairs and it was around 30 that his foot slipped on a chip in one stone stair, he was sent tumbling down them faster than a whip. And with the pain he's recieving from each sharpened edge of the stairs, he was sure his ribs would be completely broken this time rather than fractured. Mello was sure he'd crack his skull open once he'd hit the bottom but luck seemed to be on his side again as he landed on his hands and knees rather than his back. Feeling the pain of those injured ribs, he grabbed his side, and coughed out his exhaustion into the floor. Spitting out a clot of blood which gathered in his throat from the fall, Mello perked his ears to a low mumbled sound. He hadn't even noticed that the fog horn had stopped, but then its hard to notice anything when you're rolling down a flight of stairs. The horn was replaced with this new sound... low... consistant. It sounds like talking. Closing his eyes to shut off one sense in exchange to highten another; he listens carefully for any loudly said stray words. It kind of sounded like a strange animal, trapped, and just barely making sounds for attention to be released. No. No, it _is_ talking. Looking around for the penlight that fell from his person, Mello gropes the floor in the darkness until the plastic rectangle came into his hand. Turning the light on, it flickered for a second but the beam remained steady. Straightening himself, Mello shined the light at one door than another in a small hallway.

The mumbling sounded like it was coming from a door marked: office, in very scraped up letters. The other door had nothing written on it, nor did it look like it ever had. But there is a large glass square window in it, just like the office door. Getting up from the ground, he paces over to the marked door but before going inside he shines the light a little further down the hall spotting yet another door. That one has no window in it, but a thick, forebodding, solid look about it. Tempted, Mello surprised himself by turning the knob to the office door and entering it instead. The room was what one would expect an office to be: cluttered with papers that mean nothing now since the place is closed and in ruins, desks, drawers, lamps that are undoubtedly of no use. Mello spotted a door in the distance and moved to it. Trying the knob he found it to be locked. The realization and disappointment on his face was obvious when he realized that he'd left the crowbar upstairs. Mello leaves the office, once dubbing it uninteresting, and moves to the room across the hall, the one without the window. Its locked. Taking the small lockpick from his pocket, he stuffs the pen into his mouth to keep the beam on the job at hand, and then he sets to work at opening the door. When the lock clicked telling him that the door was free to open; Mello removed the light from his mouth, grabbed the knob in his free hand then stepped inside.

Looking around, he felt a knot in his stomach. Gurnies are stored in this room, and there's a noticable amount of red on the floor and what's on the bedding is brown with age, except for one bed that seemed to have fresh blood on it. How was that possible. Playing the light around the room, he notices a large wrack of ribs hanging from a hook thats attached to the ceiling. There's something else... it looks like a body. It is a body, there is no mistaking a human's shape. Taking a step back, he remembered that he heard voices not long ago, and though he entered the place where the voices were coming from he found that no one was inside. But they could still be down here, right? Hearing a loud screech, he shines the light toward the door seeing that its swinging closed on its own.

_'Shit!'_ Rushing over, he grabs the heavy door pushing it open and makes a run for it. He's seen enough to sate his curiosity. It was time to go.

Dashing up the stairs nearly two at a time, he makes it out of the crypt slamming the heavy door behind him. Exhausted, he leans his weight on the door to catch his breath. But his break didn't last long as something big slammed into the door, something big enough to bounce him off of it slightly, and a high pitched outcry sounded right along with it. Panicked, since Mello knew that he had been down in the dank crypt alone. Mello grabbed the crowbar, ready to take in the head of whomever or whatever was behind the door waiting to claw at him; and in one quick motion, he jerks the door open. Empty. He would have investigated further for the culprit had his phone not rang at that minute. Answering, his teal eyes grow wide in shock and he hurried from the building; nearly crashing his way through the crowded room to leave. It was the hospital. Matt is dying.

The medical staff was done with trying to resusatate the guide by the time Mello had arrived. He could have kicked himself for not being there. But what was he supposed to do? Matt was out cold by the time he got off work and came to the hospital. If he'd known... there was no room for 'if he'd known'. He'd been there when his mother was passing away, and there wasn't a thing he could do then either. Nurse Garland offered her sympathies, but they'd fallen on deaf ears. What was one more important person missing? Nothing. Mello's been on his own for years. He doesn't need a companion now. Matt... well, Matt would just have to be one for the flashbacks of 'the good times'. He'll be remembered, but Mello knows what's good for him which means the red head won't be missed. Life in Silent Hill became very mechanical for the blond. Job. Home. Job. Home. Fall into step, and follow the scheduled routine.

It was December when it started happening. Not the nightmares, after four more days of it, those had stopped all together. But occurances began to happen. He'd be laying in bed, awaiting sleep, when he'd hear a knock on his bedroom door. The walls of the apartmet are farely thick, voices from the hall are muffled at best, so there was no mistaking where the knocking was coming from. It was definitely being produced from within the apartment. If Mello were any one else he'd swear it was a ghost, like maybe he'd brought something back with him from the tunnels of the History Museum. But since he isn't going to put any stock into thoughts like that, Mello pressumed it to be banging pipes. It could be the plumbing knocking into the wall, having him believe that it was being made against the door when in fact its just the sound traveling. But the next night the knocking was followed up by someone jiggling the knob from the other side of the door.

Unnerved, though still skeptical, Mello got himself out of bed; he's sure to grab a t-shirt to slip on over his head incase there actually _is_ someone on the other side of the door. He waited a moment to let the person at the door get a good stride going before he gripped the knob and pulled the door open. His teal gaze scanned the living room. He knew it would be impossible for anyone to move that quickly, even in such a tiny place. Walking out into the living room, Mello crept slowly around the room, avoiding furniture as he does this.

"Hello?" He called to no one. Knowing how weird it would come out, he called out anyway. "Matt?" He jumped out of his skin right then when the stereo kicked on by itself. The volume is annoyingly loud, and he quickly crossed the room to turn it down. _'Damn power surges.'_ That's his story and he's sticking with it.

Though the building looks almost freshly built last month, you never know what kind of half-assed job goes on beyond the plaster and drywall. Calming himself, he had to smile at how paranoid he'd become in the short amount of time he's been living in this new town. This behavior simply is not him, and he won't give in to it. Walking back to his bedroom, he leaves the door open tonight; removing his t-shirt, Mello climbs back into bed. Wouldn't wanna be red-eyed through another funfilled day.

The next night the stereo kicked on by itself again, but Mello didn't have the care to go into the living room to turn it off this time. So he lay in bed listening to the long winded crackling of white noise. The damn thing could at least be set on a station playing music. Around 12:30 a.m. Mello made a mental note to buy mouse traps. He could have sworn he heard faint squeaks sounding from somewhere in the kitchen. Maybe he should have stayed at Matt's place; he's pretty sure there are no mice running around in that building. But that would never work out. He had been the one to tell the land lord that Matt passed on. That he would take care of his friend's personal belongings- which weren't much. It seems that Matt also bought a move-in ready home, and all Mello had to retrieve from the place were the red heads games, clothes, cigarette stash, and a few dirty DVDs. He keeps them in boxes in the bedroom closet. He sort of liked thinking about Matt playing with himself; he even wondered who the male thought about when he watched them. One of the guys from the DVD, or just nothing at all?

The night after that the strange occurances happened a lot sooner. It was 9:00 p.m. and Mello was seated on his couch watching television; after about ten minutes of the show, he laid himself down across the soft chocolate colored cushions, his head rest on a puffy white throw pillow; the couch reminded him of a good mug of hot chocolate and often had him downing a few steaming cups of the stuff. He loved the winter season for that reason alone. Nevermind holidays and lights, like most people tell you, its always been about the cocoa and delicious chocolatey treats they sell in the stores. It was the thought of having a slice of the devil's food cake he bought at the store that brought Mello from his mental stupor, reminding him that he'd made dinner and had yet to finish the food on his plate. Pulling the plate to himself from off the coffee table, Mello stuck the fork into a bite of rice; he hadn't noticed that a good portion of his rice was moving. It wasn't until the nasty taste of mealworms really came in pronounced, did Mello notice that something was wrong. Sitting up, he was digusted, spitting out the food in his mouth back onto the plate, the blond smacked at his shirt and lap to remove the worms that crawled their way from his plate and onto his person.

The dish clattered to the hardwood spilling the contents of it onto the floor. Mello, in socked feet, stomped the filthy insect into the floor and his once tasty meal. He isn't afraid of bugs, its just that it's damned disgusting to eat them. He pulled his foot away when a sharp pinch went into the heel of his flesh through the sock. Walking into the bathroom, he removed his sock and, using the closed toilet for a chair, checked for any sign of the pestering shard that went in. The smallest little peek of glass caught his eye. Raising his leg at an awkward angle, he used the pinch of his fingernails to remove the glass and after five tries finally obstracted the thing. Dropping it into the sink, he checked the puncture wound and wrote it off as minor when the hole didn't bleed. Only a red dot is visible from somewhere within the breech of his foot. Nothing to lose sleep over. Sock abandoned to the bathroom floor, Mello strides back into the living room to clean up the mess of his dinner.

_'Where the hell did the worms come from?' _He pondered to himself. _'It couldn't have been from the box. They'd be dead even if they had been mixed with the rice, or anything.'_ It wasn't as if he were eating a piece of raw steak. The worms wouldn't have survived the cooking process of any of the meals, so what the hell? Mello's nose scrunched up when the smell of his dinner wafted into his nostrils. Taking the gathered mess into the kitchen he dumped it over into the sink to get a better look at it. _'Are you kidding me?'_ His completely perplexed by what he's seeing.

All of it, the rice, the steak, the peas... its all molded. White patches and green cover the food as if its been there for years, when the meal was made just an hour ago. It was fresh then. So what happened between serving himself a plate of food to ignoring it and watching t.v? Sliding the trash can over to the counter, Mello shoveled the mess into the garbage can, then washed the sink out of the remnants of mutilated food and broken plate. Appetite killed for savory, he goes straight for dessert. Lifting the glass cover from the mouth watering mound of sugar but...

"Jesus." Mello voiced for the first time since his verbal 'ouch' when he'd had his brush with pain.

The cake seemed to be suffering the same fate as his dinner. He'd only taken one hunk out of it but he could tell the rest would be in no better shape. White patches of mold, fluffly, almost spider's nestish looking kind of stuff. Disgusting. His stomach growled furiously, and he was sure it was from nausea because seeing all this it couldn't be from hunger. Dumping the cake over into the trash can with the rest of his ruined night; Mello decided to turn in. After going through the nightly routine of brushing his teeth, washing his face, and tying his hair off into a low ponytail, the exhausted blond turns off the bathroom light, but paused before entering his dark bedroom. Was he crazy? Or is there really someone lying in his bed? It sure as hell looked to be that way: a lump of human form laying on its side, he can make out every curve, a blot of white face against the black pillowcase. Head cocked in curious wonder, he turns the bathroom light on. Nothing. The bed is empty. Light off, there's the lump again.

_'And to top the night off, now I'm seeing things.'_ Throwing a hand up in defeat of trying to figure things out. Mello crossed the dark room to the bed. Even up close it looked as though someone were laying there. Reaching for the lamps on switch, Mello also sent a hand out to be brave and touch the lump of possibly something, but hopefully nothing. Simulatantious with the light coming on, does Mello slap his hand down onto the bed. It was empty. No body, not even a stray that broke in through the opened window. It could happen! Fire escapes are like a jungle gym- even to people. Very assured that he's losing his grip on life, Mello turns off the lamp then climbs into bed. He ignored it all night that it sounded as though someone was sleeping next to him the entire time.

Mihael Keehl was a stubborn man, but not stupid. And when he'd awoke the next day and found the entire bedroom of his apartment moved around, he told the landlord he'd be moving out in a month. And has since been staying in a little shack at the garbage dump. Its Monday, December 19th and Mello found himself back in his own city, in his old apartment. He needed a break from the fucked up head games, but it was there the truly bizarre took place. He got a phone call. As odd as someone calling Mello was, it was whom that made the male see red after he'd gone through a stint of confusion at how spot on the imitators voice was. The caller was Matt.

Mello arrived in Silent Hill with one goal: manslaughter. He agreed to meet with the impersonator at the Sun Cafe; his and Matt's first meeting place. The leather gloves voiced Mello's readiness for a battle when his fist clenched upon his seeing the cafe door. If he had the strength in his body, the way he jerked that glass door open it would have ripped clean from its hinges. Eyes sharp like a bird of prey, he scanned the eatery. A sharp whistle off to his right caught his attention. But rather than spotting the poor victim he'd sought out, instead his shocked eyes rest upon Matt. The males crooked smile greeted him from behind a lit cigarette. Mello was so shaken by this that he couldn't move. Every muscle in his body simply froze up on him. He wasn't even able to blink! Its a dream. This is a dream. Matt was badly burned in a house fire. Matt stayed in the hospital. Matt died November 29th. He was cremated for fucks sake! Mello saw the ashes. But most importantly, Matt is dead! So who is this person?

The possibly imposter got up from the table walking over to him in Matt's easy shuffle. Red brows raised, the male cocks his head. "Well, you're in one piece," He touches Mello, surprised by the hard wince which followed it. Matt continued his thoughts though. "which means you haven't been running out in front of cars again."

"Matt." Mello heard himself say.

"And looook, he even remembers my name." The male smiled handsomely. "But, that puts you back on the plank again because amnesia didn't send you running. Which could only mean-..." Matt grunted when Mello slammed into him, the blond's strong arms wrapped tightly around his body.

"Matt, you're ok."

"Yeah, _I'm_ ok. Are _you_ ok?" He lifts his arms to somewhat return the hug, though its a bit hard seeing as how Mello has them pinned at his sides.

Mello released Matt from his hold and looked at him. Hard. Same eyes, same face, same smile, same voice, height, weight, smell. All of Matt came flooding into Mello's senses like a tidal wave and he was almost physically knocked off his feet. He's alive! Matt's alive! But how? He's not crazy, nor is he on any hallucinogenic drugs. The realization slammed into Mello like a truck. Matt had told him about that weird grass, White Claudia, when he'd given him that tour early that day. Matt was smoking something that didn't smell right, and it surely wasn't a cigarette...

_'Could I have been dreaming this whole time?'_ He looks at a perfectly healthy Matt standing before him, cigarette lit probably sometime between his coming over to Mello and the male having stood in a stupor of his own thoughts for a moment. "Matt, I need to ask you some things. Will you come back to my place?" He still has the apartment in Paleville leased to him for another month. If this isn't a hoax, maybe he'll tell the land lord that he's changed his mind about moving out.

More than a little confused, the red head nods. "Sure." Following Mello onto the streets, he watched the male grab a helmet from a large red motorcycle.

"Have you been on a bike before?" He asked Matt while digging the extra helmet from beneath the seat.

"No." Slipping the helmet on, he's sure to pay attention to instruction- if there were any.

Seeing as how this was Mello, there weren't. So the male just held on tight while being driven through the city. He may have to get a bike for himself. The ride was actually kind of fun. Although, he would never trade in his baby, plus bikes have no real class. No history to them. Its just a means of point A to point B. When they arrived at the apartment Matt followed his friend inside. Mello's weird behavior wasn't missed by the male, but Matt decided not to comment on it yet. After all, he's seen newbies, and for them this behavior really is typical. But for Mello, it seemed a bit out of place. But he's feeling a little more content, personally. And he's glad Mello came out to see him. He isn't sure what he's done but it must have been big for the guy to just leave on him.

Mello pushed open the apartment door, hanging his helmet on the coat stand by the door; Matt does the same. The blond is a little surprised to see that the place looks like it did the first time he'd moved in. He'd completely expected to see the couch in a new place, or maybe the coffee table against the far wall. But the room was the same.

"Wanna tell me why you skipped town?" Matt asked flopping himself down on the brown colored couch.

Was it lighter in color? Mello shook the thoughts away and focused on Matt. Seating himself on the coffee table in front of the male, he steeples his fingers then asks. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"Asking you to tell me why you'd skipped town." Matt chuckled.

"Don't be a smartass," Though he appreciated it to the point of allowing himself a small smile from the comfort; now was not the time for jokes. This was serious. Matt died, and now he's sitting here before him, completely unharmed as though it had never happened. And he wants some answers, dammit! "Tell me what was the last thing you remember doing with me."

Rolling his goggle covered eyes, Matt thinks on it then shrugs. "We stained my couch. You took a nap, and while you were doing that I took a touring job." He continued speaking, though it seemed Mello would interupt him at any second. "I come back and find you missing. I search for you with no luck, come home, and find out that my landlord sold my place right out from under me."

"Wait." He shakes his head trying to process it. "You said that _I_ was gone?"

"Yeah. Gone."

"So, you don't remember being at the hospital? You don't remember the fire in your apartment?"

"No. _Whaat_? Mel' you're not making any sense." Matt tapped the ashes from his cigarette into the dipped lens of his goggles since Mello doesn't own an ash tray. "Why are you treating me like an amnesia partient?"

_'How does this make any sense? I know what I saw... I know what happened. So then how is Matt sitting here right now?'_ Mello racked his brain for an answer. Aha! His ace is the whole. "If I'm the one who bailed, than where were you up until now?"

"I got a house in Old Town- guy needs a place to live." A stream of smoke willowed from his mouth as he spoke. "I didn't call you 'til now because, I don't know, I thought you might have been pissed about something." He shrugged. "I wanted to give you time to cool off, but it didn't seem like you were going to so why not reach out first." Looking at Mello's boggled expression, Matt adjusted his sitting position then asked. "You said there was a fire, though? When?"

"This might sound really weird to you, but it happened so just listen okay?" Matt seemed more like he was humoring him than listening but Mello proceeded anyway. Worst thing he could do is laugh. "Matt, I fell asleep that day, and when I woke up you were draped over me screaming."

"Because I was on fire?"

"Yeah, and can you please not sound so damned therapeutic, Dr. Phil? I'm telling the truth." He pops snickering Matt on the thigh. "You were completely charred by the time I got up; the room was encased in smoke but I never found the fire. You went to the hospital and..."

"Mello, you're out of your mind. Would I be here right now if any of that were true?" He tapped the ashes into his goggles again. "I don't know what went on, but someone else is living in my place now, _I've _been looking for a new home to reside in, and you've been MIA the entire time."

"But didn't you see me when I rode through doing my job?" Surely there was no missing a garbage truck. The noise alone could wake the dead. Poor choice of words.

"I saw you. I even called to you from the window once, you didn't hear me." He shrugged. "I was sure that you saw me, though, that's why I thought that you were pissed about something. You snubbed me."

Mello did see a curtain move aside from one of the windows in Old Town around the first week of December, but there wasn't anyone in the window. He didn't see anyone anyhow. The sky must have been reflecting a little too much in the glass. "So then who the hell was I visiting at the hospital all that time?"

"How the hell should I know," Putting out the remains of cigarette, Matt stands to go empty his makeshift ash tray. "maybe some dickweed broke into my place for help when I left; but it wasn't me." He tipped his goggles over into the sink.

"That would explain the hard staring, and lack of conversation." Mello gets up from his seat on the coffee table. "God, I feel stupid." He scrubbed his face with his hands, as if trying to keep himself awake so he wouldn't return to the horrible dream of a world of solitude.

"You should. I was less than a phone call away for assurance and you didn't so much as press 1." He returns to the living room, wrapping his arms around Mello's waist pulling him close. "What kind of fucked up friendship is this, Keehl?"

Mello rolled his eyes before leaning into the offered kiss. Matt hummed in appreciation of the slip of tongue his kiss received; very pleased with himself for making the first move to envoke Mello to grab the front of his pants where he then undoes the zipper and fly. The leather of the blond's biker gloves is warm from body heat, and feels strangely good against the bare skin of his rear; the squeezes into it enticing him to grind his hips into Mello's crotch. Matt's jeans are pushed down to crowd about his knees, and Mello knelt down before the swelling meat giving it flirtatious scattered licks along its length. Watching this, Matt's breathing picks up. Mello must have really missed him while they were apart. Crazy nut that he is; visiting strangers at the hospital believing that it was he, Matt, who'd been the victim. He told Mello what the effects of White Claudia were but he still allowed him to smoke it around him; the guy could have been hallucinating the whole damned thing. Matt's thoughts clouded over when the wet heat inside of Mello's mouth fully enclosed around his member. He moaned, slumping forward and so not to bend Mello over like a bridge he places his hands on the male's shoulders for support while he rocks his hips into that welcoming cave.

The blond met each buck of the hips expertly, encasing the full amount when Matt moved in and substituting his gripping hand along it when Matt pulled out; Matt's fingernails dug viciously into his clothed skin when the tip of his tongue flittered over the slit of the head. The rough leather material was driving the red head mad with need, and he moved his hips in and out, faster and faster, enjoying how the slickness on the gloves came and went, being wet from the exit but dry on the re-entry. All the while Mello kept a firm grip on Matt's butt, kneading at the runway while his finger tips only teased past the hole.

Mello's cheek is brushed with a schmear of semen when his blowjob traveled along the underside of Matt's member; he rolls the male's sack around with his tongue, while its housed just in the opening of his mouth. The blond loved the tour guides hand in his hair, gripping it in chunks over and over like he were giving his head some type of weird massage. Matt hadn't noticed when the hand that was goosing him left, but he didn't miss a tantilizing beat of how wonderful Mello sounded moaning around his testicals as he brought himself to climax by jerking off. He was pushed on the couch and given the brief pleasure of watching Mello coat himself in his own seed, that gathered in the lap of his boxers when he came, and his erection quickly returned within the steady stroking of his hand.

Matt had little knowledge that Mello even wanted to go this far until he was kicking himself from his jeans and climbing between his parted thighs. He wasn't prepared for penatration but the raw shove in felt too good, and his body offered little resistance to the intrution; which showed just how badly he wanted it as Mello does. Their movement is hard and fast, breaths combined before a kiss ensued, mouths shared conversational moans when lips and tongue met. Mello barely had to touch Matt's length, it was over for the male when those gloved hands gave his testicals a jerking squeeze. And he felt Mello spilling into him; their bodies clamped tightly to one anothers while they waited out the climax. Mello peppered kisses into Matt's neck all the while catching his breath.

"Don't fucking skip out on me this time, alright?" He warned in a heavy, tired tone.

"Same here."

Mello hears Matt say that he lives in house 417 on Midwich street before he fell into a blissful sleep. But there were other words, he only somewhat made out... It sounded like _"You're keeping me here"._

...

Mello opens his eyes and like a smack in the face with a metal gloved hand, he smells the scent of burning. Instantly alert, Mello looks blurry eyed around the room.

_'How did I get in the hospital?'_ He wonders when seeing the familiar objects in the room: beds, dressing screen, dresser for long term patients clothing.

The most familiar thing of all being the charred to a crisp Matt. All wrapped up like a mummy. But with the time he's spent here and the few treatments his pained body was able to endure, he at least isn't lumpy anymore. Mello stood up and stretched his aching bones. His ribs are in pain again, almost like they had never healed, in fact, his whole body feels tingly like that time in Matt's bathroom. Rubbing himself to calm the sensation, Mello walks over to the window. Its dark outside. It seems a good pile of snow has fallen as well.

_'Had I dreamt all of that?'_ He wonders. _'It didn't feel like a dream.'_ Hearing a ruffling sound from movement, Mello crosses the room to the patient bed. "Matt, is that you?" He asks the writhing figure.

Matt, or whoever, stopped his wriggling and stared at Mello. Slowly, very slowly, as if it took a great deal of effort the male nods. Then his gaze settles on the table beside the bed, his hand stretches out for- what Mello assumes- is the Nintendo DS resting next to a pitcher of water.

"Do you want something to drink?" Mello asked, before handing the avid gamer his fix. Seeing Matt nod again Mello sets to work at making the male comfortable. Raising the bed so that his lover can drink comfortably, fluffing the pillows behind Matt's head. Pouring a glass of water he hands it off to the male. He drew a line at helping him eat or drink. A man has his pride and he's very sure that Matt would be annoyed later on, once he got out of this place. If he gets out.

Mello could kick himself because of how easily he just accepted the fact that Matt was alive and well, was nothing more than a dream brought on by his desires for it to be true. But as it seems, Matt is here. In the hospital. Still burned. Still in pain. Walking over to the window Mello looks out onto the street again, he's not sure why but... it sort of feels as though someone is watching him. Rubbing the fog, built up from the warmth of his breath against the chilled glass, from the window he catches a glimpse at himself and staggers back in shock. Dashing from the window into the bathroom he yelped in surprise. Mello was practically poking himself in the eye while feeling the wrinkles and swells surrounding the left side of his face, mostly around the eye.

_'When did this... and how?'_ He questions himself.

Something was up with his eye as well, but it couldn't be! There was just no way! Closing his right eye it was confirmed. His vision has been burned away. He can't see a thing out of it. But its not a black blindness, but a white one, like having a flash light shoved in your face. He recalled that Matt had been laying over him that fateful day, but he didn't know the extent of his pain was this. He felt fine- fuck he looked fine. So what is this all of a sudden. Mello is finding it nearly impossible to know what's real or what's fake anymore. Its beginning to take a toll on his nerves. This whole damned place is. Is he at home with Matt. Or in this hospital right now? Maybe he is the one who'd run out on Matt, and is now laying in an alley like a burn out waiting for a fuck or a fix by some dealer.

"AAAHHHH!"

The scream came from the hall, blood curdling, and loud. But it was different somehow. Leaving the bathroom, Mello glances over at Matt whose still hard at work saving Princess something or another with a plumber. It wasn't from him. Walking over to the door he pulls it open, then peers into the hall. It was a man, a big man, sliding along the floor like something were pulling him- dragging him. Looking just off behind the man, Mello sees that there is no one back there. But something has to be, people don't get dragged off by airspace; and his leg is extended up as though its from there he's being held. It sounded as though this were happening all over the place as screams go up all through the hallway. Stepping out of the room, Mello looks around for what he's uncertain of. Maybe he could help? Marching down the hall, he peeks around a corner and just catches the elevator doors closing shut, covering the gruesome scene of a woman having her skin torn clean off her body like she were getting a skin graph done- he knew of this because he sat in on one of Matt's appointments.

Staggering backward in confusion, the panicked male can sense something looming behind him but before he can make his escape he's knocked off his feet and jerked violently along down the hall. Twisting himself so that he's on his stomach, Mello scrapes and scratches at the floor hoping to catch himself on something so that he can pull himself free of this ghosts grip. He doesn't know what awaits him once its taken him to wherever it plans to go, and he sure as hell does not want to find out. He cried out in pain when his head popped against a slightly open door; it slammed shut after his impact. His good eye blurred and for a faint moment, he could see something ahead of him. A nurse... maybe. It was only a backside, but he could swear he saw a white nurses uniform, one of those blue cardigans... it was covered in blood and dripping.

He could see the halls end, and quickly, he hooked his arm around the frame of Matt's hospital room. His body jerked so hard he thought he'd be snapped in half, but thankfully the tugging stopped, his leg dropped hard to the floor as though it were declared infected, and was quickly abandoned before it spread to the person pulling him. He could barely get himself to his feet as he gathered himself up and entered Matt's room, closing the door behind him.

"Something's going on," He says to the gammer, he looked as though he were giving him a skeptical look. "We gotta go. I'll get you better care at the hospital in my hometown. Come on, wrap your arms around my neck." He sits on the bed, glad to feel Matt's weight against his back. He needed the male's full participation right now, so they can both make it out safely. "Just hold on tight."

Holding his lover piggyback style, Mello adjust the weight against him so that he can travel with ease. The door to the room is opened again; Mello looks out into the hallway. Its quiet. Empty. Perfect. Darting down the hall, he presses the button for the elevator. He held his stomach in check when seeing the lost pile of skin without its owner; there's blood everywhere though. But he can't let that stop him, being held up by worry will end up getting he and Matt into the same situation. The first floor opened up to them; Mello stepped cautiously out into the hall. He has to be sure its clear for a safe exit. He can hear people screaming within the patient rooms; some of them low now, like they've accepted that the pain is happening, or that they've gotten used to it and their mouths remain responding as they seem to need.

Hurrying to the large double doors at the end of the hall Mello froze. A nurse just stepped into view, clipboard in hand. She seemed completely oblivious to any of the screaming going on. Glancing up from her clipboard, she spots Mello. It was clear she thought nothing of it, at first, but upon seeing Matt's slumped figure resting upon him, she scrunched her face into a snarl and yelled out to him.

"Hey! Where are you going with him?!" When Mello runs, she grumbles in annoyance. "Get back here!"

The rescuer ducked into the nearest room which is back on the elevator, and while barely looking, he sent them up to the third floor. He couldn't hide in any of the patients rooms, so he settled for the bathroom. Pressing their weight into the door, Mello apologizes when Matt lets out a pained groan. Lowering his lover to sit on the floor, Mello straightens up and turns the large padlock to keep the hospital staff out. Hopefully they won't be able to open it until he can get them both safely to ground level out the window.

Letting out a relieved breath, Mello looks at Matt and says. "We should be safe in here." Frowning, he kneels down. "Aah, Matt. ...I'm sorry." He touches the male tenderly. It seemed the bumpy ride popped a few blistered. Matt's bleeding through the bandages. "But, you're gonna be ok. Just tough it out until I can get us out of here."

Mello strides over to the window, pausing momentarily because of a sudden sound startling him. It sounded as though someone was remembering their last meal into the toilet through their mouth. The smell was rising heavy in the air. Nose scrunched in disgust, Mello called to the man while trying to open the large, heavy window. "Hey. If you're that sick, you should have said something to the doctors." It was stupid to say, but his brain wasn't exactly functioning properly in the given situation. His thoughts panicked moreso when the hospital staff makes their presence known by pounding on the door.

"Open the door!" Called the nurse who spotted him.

"Get out here now! You're only hurting your friend more by doing this!" Called a certain doctor.

"Fat chance." Informed the refugee. _'But I can't stay in here forever. And there's no way of getting this window open.'_ He pats the thick glass. Looking around the room, Mello racks his brain for an idea. Its a little hard to think with that constant sound of heaving in the background. That's it! _'I can use that guy as a hostage. These people wouldn't allow me to kill someone; and in exchange for the mans life, they'll have to allow Matt and me to leave.'_ Sure this plan is fool proof; Mello knocks on the door of the stall. "Are you gonna be alright in there?" He calls in the kindest voice he can muster. "Do you want me to get you some help?" Mello's nose scrunched to stauch the full effect of the stink when the man made a loud belch in response. "Sir?" He knocks again.

The response to this was the man slamming his full weight into the stall door, so hard he actually cracked it in half. The splintered wood looked like jagged teeth in a monsters mouth.

_'The fuck is this guys problem?'_ Wondered the blond, feeling his anger boiling steadily beneath his panicked demeanor. "Come on, you've gotta get out of there." He says again.

This time he takes a peek beyond the opening between the door and the frame of the stall, but his attention is taken away by the sound of the next stall splintering in half just as the first one. It was almost like the crack was spreading. Each stall door splintered in half with the speed of a rat running for a free meal on a kitchen floor. This phenomina didn't stop until the trail smacked into the wall, hard enough to crack the plaster. Mello watched this with a muddled look on his face; shooting a glance at Matt's slumped form, he couldn't ask if the male saw it because at the moment he seemed quite dead to the world. He must be in so much pain that he's blacked out. Falling plaster directed Mello's attention again, and he watched as the entire wall seemed to fall away going from the floor and up to the ceiling. It was incredible. He had to take a step back when the floor crumpled away beneath his feet; his butt popped into the rim of the sink behind him. All sound but the crackles and crumbles ceased to exist right then; no throwing up, no doctors pounding at the door, even his own breathing and heart beat silenced in awe of this weird scene playing out before him. Man, he wished someone was coherant enough to be asked if they're seeing all this as well. At least then Mello would know that he isn't cracking up like the room.

He's cast into a deep darkness once the room finished blowing itself apart. The last thing he heard was the sound of the window shattering. Turning on the tiny little penlight he keeps in his pocket, Mello looks around the newly redecorated bathroom. The walls are molded and dirty beyond belief. The stall doors are stripped completely from their paint, but strangely they've been fixed, the cracks gone. The floor was raw metal grating, the only bits of plater left were under his feet and once he'd stepped from them even they fell away. The window didn't leave any kind of glassy mess behind when they'd broken out, but the windows are now covered by rust, no glass; the cool winter air is blowing in heavily. Mello shivered. The man in the stall started up again, and he flashed his light in that direction. He had to admit- and only to himself- that he's a little bit hesitant to look. Because before when he'd peeked... there was no one inside. Will it be the same now? Walking closer, he winked an eye beyond the closed door. Catching his breath in surprise, he backed away.

What he saw just couldn't be real. There was a man inside... naked... sitting back on his haunches, head tilted and looking at the ceiling. The nude strangers mouth is open wide, and the deformed foods and stomach acid are eroding from his throat leaving globs all over the man's face; speckled with pimples, and blisters, and burns from the nasty stuff dissolving his skin like its trying to digest it as it would food.

He heard the movement, but had little time to prepare his nerves from the impact of the man slamming into the stall. Turning around he smashes his fist into the mirror, removing a shard to defend himself with should the man in the stall be as violent as his attempts to get out sound; angry grunts, louder than any human should be able to get, follow each slam. Finally the door seemed to give way for him, and slowly it swings open. Mello, poised for attack is once again slapped in the face by surprise. The stall is empty. He had to be sure, and carefully Mello shoves open each stall. Empty. Flashing his light around the bathroom, he wonders if the man were ever really there and it wasn't just his mind trying to come up with something gruesome to match his surroundings. He really must be dreaming.

"Come on Matt, I think we're in the clear to get out no-..." Light shined on the door, Mello couldn't say that he hadn't expected it. But he still didn't like it all the same. Matt is gone. He's nowhere in the tiny bathroom. He surely couldn't have gone out, Mello would have heard him. "I really must be dreaming." Didn't seem to take his fears away of it being reality though. "Guess I'm on my own." Walking over to the bathroom door, Mello takes his leave.


	5. Nightmare on Nathan Lane

Mello would have torn from the restroom had he not been so damned paranoid about what he'd find once outside the safety of the bathroom's battered walls. How could he not be paranoid? And small side note to add onto his ongoing prickeling nerves, he'd locked the door after he and Matt entered and without turning the lock to release himself had pulled the should be locked door open. As if that weren't cause enough for disturbed inner panic, the hospital is in shambles!

_'What the hell happened to this place?'_ Wonders the blond.

The smell, for starters, punched you in the face knocking you right on your ass. It was like old bugs, blood, and death. The walls are brown and rusty, the doors smeared with something akin to rusted blood, some of it still a dark red color. A few blotches of green here and there- who knew what the hell that was. The floor had to be the biggest change, once solid is now filled with diamond shaped holes like a metal fence, a large gaping wound is off to his left. The drop no doubt leading to an abyss somewhere in the basement or maybe lower than that. The windows, strangely, have bars before them. But if his apartment is anything to judge by, the strange changes of the hospital were only going to get worse as he makes his way through it back outside. Leaving seemed the best option if he can't find Matt. Walking cautiously over the screened floors, he couldn't help shooting glances down below spying exposed pipes and even the second floor. This place is a mess. He now more than before wanted out of this place, Matt has always seemed fine enough in the morning when he came to visit him what were the odds the same could be said this time around. That his best plan of action is to simply head down to the main floor and leave altogether. But dammit if he wouldn't feel like the worlds biggest piece of shit for leaving Matt behind in a dangerous situation. Mello has never been one for heroics, but then he's never really had a reason to be a hero. He's lived a life of near solitude but coming here he's actually made a companion.

_'Okay. I'll look for Matt, but if I don't find him then I'm out of here.'_ He declared to himself.

Heading down the hall he could hear screaming, just like before when the patients were being dragged through the hall by some invisible force. He'd been caught, he'd been dragged and popped his head on an open door. It was then that he'd seen the nurse pulling him, seen bits of the hospital in passing look much like it does now. Maybe that's what's happening, he's suffering from a head trauma. He's unconscious, either in the bathroom or a patients room, and he's dreaming all of this right now. But then wasn't he just laying down with Matt at his apartment? So this really is a dream then, a very very vivid dream. He can actually feel his heart slamming against his rib cage, his breaths are definitely pent up in his chest. If this is just a dream he should probably leave as he'd intended to earlier. Rounding the corner it was pure reflex that shot him back a step as a large carving knife came down before him. He got lucky that the blade glinted in the overhead lighting otherwise he'd be sporting a nice-sized slice from the side of his forehead to his jaw. The culprit showed herself stepping out from the darkness of the patients room. Her eyes are completely whited over as if rolled up in her head, mouth slack and hung open, her posture was just as slumped as her mouth. She looked like she'd been through hell and made it out- barely.

The drunken nurse swayed a bit where she stood; it was almost as if she didn't see him at all until her hunched form straightened up, knife in hand and raised up over her head making her appear taller than the 5'6" that she is. Stumbling forward, the nurse chopped at airspace as Mello backed up with each rapid step she took toward him. His back slammed into a wall and he cried out when the point of the knife met with his shoulder opening up a nasty gash down his right arm. Clamping a hand to it to stop the bleeding, he spun himself away to avoid another attack but he wasn't about to miss the opportunity and elbowed the woman in the ear when she about met with the wall while still trying to get at him. Her head hit the wall beside her with a sickening crack. She slumped to the floor writhing in pain, but for some reason the injury wasn't enough to keep her from coming at him, and no sooner had he moved to continue down the hall does she grab onto his leg with her one hand, intending to cut him up with the other.

The knife swung wildly to and fro and she almost connected with his leg had he not come at her with kicks to the head. She groaned something awful, the kind of sound you'd hear in nightmares and wake up swearing to your parents that something is under your bed. It was low and heavy and dragged like a body murdered and taken off to a dumping site. Mello kicked the woman until she let go, and with little structure left to her head he wasn't sure she'd ever do it. No one should take that much pain and still be functioning. But her body finally stilled. Letting out a breath, he knelt down to inspect the mess, but mostly to remove the weapon and use it for himself. If he can still hear patients screaming, there are undoubtly still dangers lurking beyond this one rogue nurse. She moaned again, as if gaining a second wind!

It had to be that thing on her back! At least he was hoping so, as he's very clearly running out of ideas and being chased through the hospital by this invinsible woman was not an idea he cared to babysit. The nurse was about to push herself up from the floor when Mello brought the knife down between her shoulder blades, stabbing the wriggling thing that squirmed beneath the pale green cardigan again and again and three more times for good measure. Her back was a bloody mess by the time he'd finished with her, his hands weren't anymore spotless to show for the work he'd done. But that finally seemed to do the trick, and he watched as the lifeless body bled out over the grated floor. The bubbled blood dripped down onto the floor below where a ruckus seemed to be brewing over it. Wonderful. Maybe he can take the elevator and avoid the second floor altogether? Stepping over the corpse he heads to the double doors that will take him to the elevator. But its locked. Fuck. He'll have to find another way.

His boots skirt around a corner and he makes a mad dash down the hall. If there are any other staff members working on this floor- or whatever you call what they're doing now- he didn't want to run into them. He couldn't help glancing into the opened doors of the rooms with where a light is on and he can see beyond the thin little glass pane placed in the metal door. Some rooms were empty, others... it was grim. Even in that quick peek in as he whipped by he could see that those people were too far gone to bother saving. Their veins exposed in cut open arms strapped tightly up and off to the side of their head. One man lay in bed with his chest cavity completely removed. His mind instantly went back to Matt and where in this hell he could be. Bursting through the double doors at the end of this hall, he spots two nurses just hanging out in the hall, leaned over in a hard slump, swaying as if they're drunk and just need to find their footing. One fine but can he take two? Maybe there was another way around- or maybe he can beat off one and flee past the other? Seemed the best bet. To his surprise though a groan sounded from one of the rooms, the nurses seemed not to care- at first- oh they perked up at the sound, but when a light came on from a lamp at the woman's bedside the two nurses rushed into the room at full force.

The patients' screams... he'd remember them. Even in his waking from this nightmare. Too loud, too blood curdling, too... desperate for help that would not come. And damn it if he didn't feel guilty as he sped on by, glad that he'd had the forsight to turn off his little penlight when he saw that lights in the hall were on. Blinking, but on. He'll just have to make his way by carefully since the floor seemed divided by a large drop. Eyes still needed adjusting, but from the glow coming from the patients room, he can see just enough to get by. Carefully, as quiet as he can keep himself from the weight of his boots on a metal floor, he snuck by. He didn't want to look into the room, but morbid curiousity had his teal gaze turn in just long enough to spot the woman make eye contact with him. Her agony was clear, her spotting him was too chillingly clear and no sooner had her mouth opened to scream again her eyes blanked over as her life slipped away. The nurses continued to scalpal the woman to a point where her dead body was merely convulsing from nerve endings dying individually and spasming the limb its attached to. He grabbed his arm, knowing that he was damned lucky that the slice was all that had happened to him.

Thankfully, the next hall lead him right to an elevator as he knew it would and he pressed the button and climbed on. He was saying a very lengthy prayer in his head, odd considering he didn't believe in anything. He supposed he was being thankful more than praying that the elevator actually worked. Everything is so broken and run down it really was a wonder the thing had power. Only that one hall seemed blessed with the flickering glow of comfort, while everything else is laid in darkness. Down the mechanical box went through the hospital and when the elevator dinged the golden double doors open Mello stepped out into the hall, and just as noisily as they'd opened the golden doors closed. He'd really have prefered the element of surprise but everything seemed to wanna work against him until the last second. Hopefully the halls will be clear from here to the front doors.

Making his way quickly down the hall, his boots screeched as he stumbled to a stop and had to literally throw himself back against the wall. Back plastered, he readies a plan to eliminate the swaying doctor. He looked so normal from this distance. So... human, he might have considered asking the man for help if he didn't know better. As if to drive the point home, the doctor turned so that his back was exposed to Mello showing off a wriggling, jiggling thing stuck beneath his skin just like the nurse had. The creature left a gross, yellow and orange stain on the doctor's white coat. It was wiggling so wildly it was almost like it could sense Mello were there watching. Good thing his light was off. What is the doctor? 175-210 pounds. He can take him right? His grip around the knife clenched in thought. Wrong. He'd better think of something else. The doctor groaned messily over a slackened jaw that looked broken and hanging from its henge when Mello slipped over to a cart knocked onto its side on the wall opposite him.

Hiding, he chewed at his bottom lip in thought. _'Alright, think Mihael... that thing is blocking the door you need. How do you get past him without getting damaged too much?'_ Fishing through his pants pocket, he finds Matt's lighter. Strange that he would have it, but he doesn't question it. Its actually the incline of his luck, which meant it was about to slope back down if this turn of events was anything to judge by. He got lucky getting Matt and himself to safety, unlucky losing him, lucky that he has a weapon, unlucky that its a knife and this damn place is crawling with a mentally diseased medical staff that just happen to be kill-happy. Damn it! Finds a working elevator, but his exit is blocked and if that closing door and sudden unison of groans meant anything another doctor just joined Kevorkian in the hall. Then it dawned on him as his vision caught sight of the toppled medicine bottles. Cleaning solutions are flamable, if he can locate something to ignite he can burn those fuckers to the ground and get out. Damn this darkness, he can't read the labels over the doors. He saw the map... he can remember. Closing his eyes he mouths the locations of each room before opening his eyes and standing to make his move. The cafeteria will take him to the kitchen where there's bound to be cleaning supplies. He'd use the laundry but the doctors would spot him for sure. Hopefully the kitchen will have what he needs.

Heading around the corner he pushes open the double doors, catching them before they slap closed behind him. It seemed every room in this place has been hit with physical disease as the cafeteria wasn't much better off than the rest of the rooms. Tables were flipped, blood was everywhere, the only real difference was the smell. The cafeteria gave points to the hallways because the smell in there was down right disgusting. It skimmed the lines of very old, and very runny fecis and rotted flesh. Eeew, there even seemed a brush of vomit playing through the other two odors. At least the room is empty. Passing through it, table after table he freezes instantly when hearing a cough.

Looking around the dark room he called out. "Hello?"

There is no answer, only silence. Figuring he'd been hearing things Mello takes a step forward only to be met with a rustling sound, similar to clothes shifting on a body. Someone has to be in here.

"If someone else is here, you don't have to be afraid... I'm normal, just like you." He looks around for where the shuffling is heard. "We can help each other out." Even as he spoke he knew it was pointless, whomever it was wasn't going to come out, not for him. He'd better just get back to what he was doing. Walking toward the kitchen he jerked back on reflex- much like he had with the nurse in the hall. It wasn't because anything had touched him, it was more because of what he saw up ahead of him. A bright luminous light, almost like lightning bottled in a room. Curiosity won over self preservation and Mello bolted through the double doors to the kitchen to catch the cause of the lightning storm. "Hey!" He called out when seeing a blip of white dash off behind a wrack of pots and pans.

Whatever had ran from him was white all over, small too. And unless he's seeing things in the dark it looked like it had a mop of white hair on top of its head. It couldn't be due to lighting since the room, minus his penlight, is almost blackened over. There! Mello followed suit but once again got knocked on his ass by the strangeness of this place. The ghostly white figure went right through a wall and disappeared! Of course it did. It wouldn't be a ghost otherwise, worser still, Mello wouldn't be fully hallucinating if the child couldn't go through walls to give him the slip. Not to mention, he still can't see out of his left eye. His vision in it burned away by the fire in Matt's apartment. He looks over his shoulder when hearing another sound of movement. Someone's coming. Unsure why, he ducks down behind the island in the center of the kitchen killing his penlight- just incase. A large 300 something pound man dressed in a cruddy white undershirt and black slacks came bustling through the kitchen along the otherside of the island counter with a large silver bot in his hands. The stink in the air kicked up ten fold and Mello had to gag just to keep from throwing up outright. But he has an advantage again, the fat man had come from a storage room in back where they might keep the cleaning supplies. Creeping along being as silent as possible, he's practically crawling to the single swinging door.

He didn't turn on the light until his fingers brushed a shelf. He had to make this quick. _'Come on... come on.'_ He orders the fluids. _'Damn this world for going green.'_ He looks over his shoulder at another shelf. Maybe he can find some cooking sherry and make a molotov cocktail. It was a thought. None of these bottles read: flamable.

So focused on what he's doing Mello missed it when the door swung open allowing the large meaty chef inside the box of a room with him. The dazed chef makes his way over to the intruder, for a big man he's damn near silent while padding over.

Index finger skooching over this bottle and that, Mello had to put the light in his mouth just to get better access and work quicker. _'Finally! Found it.'_ He declared with a smile over the bite of pen. Lifting the bottle from the shelf, he stands just as he turns to leave and smacks right into the messy aproned chest of the other-worldly chef.

Efficiantly spooked Mello repositions the knife in his hand so that the length of the blade is along his forearm and aimed at himself but it served to help him cut into the man's chest just by throwing a punch. The slice burst open with a wide spray of blood splashing over Mello's face and coating his blond hair a fiery red in front. The chef groaned and beat at his chest as though he had bad indigestion. Mello staggered backwards taking the time he had to wipe the blood from his one good eye. He winked it open when something wet and thick hit the floor. It wormed and twisted as if it were in pain, but it remained alive. With a better view from the light still in his mouth, he can make out what looks like... a roach, maybe?

"Oh!" He's bum-rushed and grabbed up by the throat, pinned against a shelf of food stuffs.

The chef has his neck held so tightly he can't breath and he's gasping for oxygen with little success of relief. His feet flail and kick when the man lifts him from the ground to groan in his face. Mello could feel his hot breath like a plaster mold. As if that weren't bad enough his vision is darkening; peeks of the chef's ravaged and partially removed face blink in and out of his view. His view! Lifting the knife, on little strength, he intends to drag the blade across the chef's eyes but his muscles spaz out and he falls limp in his attackers grasp; the knife fell to the floor. At least he thought it would hit the floor, the zombie-like human caught the knife before it could fall completely. As if the knife were the better option the chef's grip around his throat slackened, and Mello took in a loud sharp drag of air. It almost sounded as if he were impersonating the murderous creatures air came in so hard. He coughed and choked from the sudden rush of relief, but his break didn't last very long when the knife was coming up at him intending to slice open his stomach as he'd sliced open the man's chest.

Mello's right leg kicked out catching the offending arm to knock it out of the way, and with his leg he pinned the chef's left arm against the wall by the wrist. He used all of his semi-returned strength to keep it pinned there. The chef seemed game at the new battle strategy and in one deft movement he went from clamping onto Mello's neck to gripping him by the stomach in some sick wrestlers gut-wrenching hold. Mello was sure anyone who so much as crossed the street from the hospital heard his scream when those broken, black fingernails bit into his skin to keep the painful grip. The fat fuck had the gaul to actually clench and unclench his hand as if he were a dog taking a bite out of some ground meat, or if Matt were giving the description one of those chomp chains in his Super Mario games. Mello could taste his lunch in the back of his throat. Mello's thoughts spun as he tried to think of a way to save himself from being pulled inside out.

Letting go of the chef's wrist, his hands were working on autopilot to remedy the assualt on his gut, he instead gropes around at the metal shelf behind him when numb fingers come across a glass bottle. "Here!" He smashes the glass bottle in the man's face. The shards dug into the chef's already fucked up face and the damaged seemed done, but the man still had fight in him and took that moment to toss Mello into the corner opposite where his right arm was pinned. The blond's ears are ringing from the impact with the wall and his hand goes up to rest upon his ear that may or may not be where the drips of blood are coming from. Then again it was all over his face, and he jerked his hand through his bleeding bangs pulling them and the chef's blood from his face. He was sure he looked positively mad, all bloody and beaten, his teal eyes frantically flickering back and forth in the room for something to kill with. Setting a hand down on the floor to help push himself to his feet, he split his palm open on a stray shard of glass. Something about his bleeding palm gave him an idea.

Crawling off to the shelf he was just pinned to, he located that sherry and took a big swig. When the oversized meat suit came at him he sucked in a breath and with lighter in hand flame flicked to life, he spit the sherry into the air and watched with panic glee that it had worked. A cloud of flames reached hungrily out at the chef engulfing him like dry autumn leaves. The man dropped to his knees before Mello, lit up like the sun and moaning and screaming away. Mello could only watch as the skinny almost hallway like pantry's exit was blocked off from him. He's pinned, and if the man fall's forward in this tiny little space, he's thoroughly fucked. He'd been smacking at his own mouth to put out the flames that licked the alcohol on his lips and breath. It burned like a bitch and the roof of his mouth would suffer dearly for it. No sense in babying himself now, he's already so worse for wear. Standing on shaking legs, he kicks the chef onto his back hurrying over the inferno of a body to the exit. He only stilled his flee for a moment when his legs threatened to give out on him, he rest against the doorframe panting. Exiting the kitchen with neither chemical or knife, Mello staggered through the kitchen and cafeteria. It was strange because right as he'd opened the door to enter the hall he saw that bright light again. Where the hell was it coming from, moreso, who was the person creating it? Hadn't Matt said something about aliens during the town tour.

Whatever that light was, the doctors were nowhere in sight. Not even in sound. Mello held a loose grin as he walked to the exit. His insides felt like shit, his muscles ached. Well, if you're gonna crash out, might as well do it in a hospital. He chuckled through a ragged breath when pushing open the double doors to the front desk area.

_'I'm so close...'_ He trudges for the door, hand extended. That's when he felt something moving on him. It slithered and ran at the same time, it was aiming for the slice on his palm it seemed, and he watched frightened and helpless as the thing from the floor exited his shirt sleeve and slid inside his hand. _'No, no no no no no!'_ Without thinking his fingers reached desperately into the slice in his hand, the pinch just barely catching the creature as it worked its way around bone to gain access further inside of him. But he already felt it and dropped to the floor as the thing traveled to his chest via arm. His blood caught fire and his motor skills betrayed him along with it. He smashed his head into the large oak receptions desk, over and over until he could actually feel his skull splinter and crack beneath his skin. That was it. Dead. Gone...

"Wakey, wakey." A scratchy voice called from somewhere before him, he can feel a hand smacking against his cheek.

"Mmm?" Intoned the blond who believed that he was on the otherside by now.

"Come on, open those delicious looking eyes." Said the voice.

Blurry eyes open to a slit and spy a large black and white firgure standing before him. Mello didn't let it go that he can see out of his left eye- just a bit. What is going on? More importantly, what happened? Hadn't he beaten himself to death just moments ago? Is he dead now? Looking around the room, his vision's slowly clearing up a bit more and he takes it in that he's no longer at the hospitals front desk, but rather in the hospital's morgue. After his location is confirmed he sees what it was that had been speaking to him. It looked like... honestly. It looked like one of the shinigami's on the lighters they sell in stores. They're a popular item actually. He must be dreaming then if he's seeing one now.

"I don't normally do this." Said the hallucination. "But watching you has gotten... interesting." He laughs to himself, the feathers on the collar of his shirt ruffle up and down with the movement of his full bodied show of joy. "Its always a sight to see when humans come to this place, moreso when they end up falling for one of the others."

Mello glared, he didn't miss the fact that this spikey haired, leather clad, demon must be refering to Matt and himself.

"Your friend is gonna be alright no matter what happens to him, which is more than I can say for you if you stick around." It grinned its toothy fangs Mello's way. "Give it up, huh? Or give in. All that running around is gonna make you chewy come meal time, not to mention get the attention of _that_ guy, and that's the last thing I want." When the reaper leaned in Mello squirmed against the wall.

"Stay back!"

"Back? You think that makes a difference, huh? Hyuk hyuk." It laughed. "I'll send you back, but you better do as I say... or the next one on the slab will be you." He jerked one of the long tables from the wall of doors just before he vanished.

"Wait!? What are you saying?!" He called out to the dissipating form. Getting up from the floor, Mello heads over to the slab, slowly. His breathing is ragged becoming more frantic when he notices right away a crop of red hair laying on the cold metal bed. "Ma-.."

But a loud siren cried out just then, so loud your eardrums would bleed instantly had he covered his ears. Everything went fuzzy... no, not fuzzy everything began to sizzle and disappear just as the shinigami had.

...

Mello woke up with a pain in his head the size of the grand canyon. He cracked his eyes open and looked about the living room, the very living room that he'd disappeared from only two hours ago- maybe less, maybe more. Nothing was different, nothing had changed on this end. So he had been dreaming, but then where was Matt? That reaper said that Matt was going to be fine. Did he mean it? Hn. Kind of strange to want Matt alive and well so much that he'd even consider the hallucination a viable sorce of information. But dammit. Getting up from the couch he heads for the door. Matt said he lives in Old Town, he may be there right now. He has to find out. Crossing the room, he picked up his pace when he heard noises behind him.

"Hey! Hey! Where are you going now?"

Mello was spun around and slammed into the front door of the apartment. Ready to fight, he paused when seeing who it was that had shoved him. "Matt." And boy did he sound relieved when he said it. His posture visibly relaxed into that of a noodle and he threw his arms around the red head. Smiling all the more when Matt snickered.

"No shit." He said as if they'd been in a conversation only a second ago. He chuckled when his comment was met with silence and a tighter grip. "Squeeze me all you like, but watch your arm."

"My arm?" Mello questions while doing as Matt said by squeezing him all that he liked, twisting them within the embrace.

"Joking aside, Freddy Krueger did a number on you while you slept." Tugging up Mello's shirt he showed his lover the bandages he'd placed on him a little while ago. He'd just been in the kitchen cleaning his hands from the blood that oozed out of Mello's arm. "You feeling alright?" He asked staring into the male's eyes, his concern in full show on his face.

"Yeah... you said I've been cut?" He exams his person, then stomps off to the bedroom to get a better look in the bathroom mirror.

Sure enough Mello was bandaged up but 'did a number on' didn't seem to cover it. He has bruises on his torso, a vivid flash of that fat chef's meaty paws digging into him came back. The slice down his arm that the nurse made bled through the bandage. How was this possible? Winking his right eye, he notices he can see perfectly from his left eye. It seems that 'how was this possible' is the sentence of the day because he wound up asking himself the question thirty times over as he walked slowly from the bathroom to take a seat on the cushy bed.

Head cocked in thought as Matt watched the blond move about the room like a lost child waiting for his parents to come get him from school, he supposed Mello would be the kid pacing the sidewalk that peered into the parking lot hoping the next car in would be for him. He would never be the kid waiting inside, peanut better and jelly sandwich in his hands and a mindful teacher watching and waiting with him. Before video games came into his love-life, Matt had always settled with playing toys. They never spoke or interacted with each other, they just moved through a world that he'd created trying to get to the next one. And boy has he ever had a lot of time doing that. Go be raised by an elderly person and see how often they remember to pick you up, or wake up from a 'light snooze'. Good thing he was independent enough to just tell the teacher that he'd walk home.

"Mell', you don't look so good." Matt walked over to him, resting a hand on the blond's shoulder. "You should get some sleep. I'll sleep too, maybe we can share a dream?" He teased when taking a seat beside his lover.

"I'm not tired." He lied. But not entirely. He really isn't tired, but his body is exhausted. Big difference.

"Cocoa?" Matt offered.

Mello fixed Matt with a gaze of accusation. "Noo." He said and smiled. His mother had always put his restless mind to bed with a cup of cocoa. One sip of the good stuff and he'd be out in minutes. He honestly never wanted to sleep again. Not after that dream or nightmare rather. Very _real_ nightmare. "No. I don't wanna sleep anymore. What time is it?" He decided to change subjects before Matt could further insist that he needed bed rest.

"It's 11:47."

That seemed to smack Mello in the face. In the dream only what? An hour passed. But its that late?! They'd only met each other for lunch and its now nearly midnight? At risk of sounding like a broken record, How was that possible!?

"Nothing's open but the clubs. So, unless you wanna dance like there's no tomorrow, we could..." Matt trailed off.

...

Gun controllers in hand, Wii set up and running; the two indulge theirselves in a friendly competition of Resident Evil Chronicals. Whomever got the better score got a reward, there were no lines drawn about what the reward was but both could guess that it would dabble within the sexual relm. Matt was still uncertain over what had prompted the bizarre behavior in Mello but he wasn't gonna ask. Like he's said, newcomers to this town don't last long. They either lose their sanity or disappear altogether.

Glancing at Mello who seemed hard pressed to keep popping off zombie heads, Matt asked casually. "So, do I get to know what you were dreaming about? Or am I supposed to guess?"

Mello's aim missed at that moment and he instead plugged the offending zombie in the groin.

"I'm guessing, you dreamt that you were asleep and he came up through the mattress."

Shooting Matt a glance, his face read that he didn't have a clue what the read head was talking about.

"And did he say his catch phrase? You've lived too long and now you must-..."

Cutting him off Mello snipped out. "If I tell you, will you shut up?"

"I might." He continued playing the game, popping zombie heads all the while keeping his gaze on Mello. Show off.

Pausing the game, Mello lowered his gun controller to his lap. "It wasn't Freddy whoever, it was just a bad dream. And frankly, I don't wanna talk about it, so." And he let it end there. But the 'leave it alone' was blantant.

With a defeated shrug, Matt went back to the game. But he still had questions because it was weird. People don't just fall asleep and get their arm butchered. The bruises on his stomach... he's only really seen Mello naked a time or two, the guy could be a needler- he used to be- he knows the tell tale sign of purpling in the area that's over-used. Hell, if he didn't get hooked on White Claudia he might still be doing it.

"Scores coming up." Mello announced.

The two watched the screen offer up their scores from critical kills to items found, damage done and in the end Matt came out the victor. And boy was he about to gloat as he turned a victorious grin at his friend.

"You of course know," And this was Mello. "I was only kidding when I got into this little death match with you."

"Said the loser who wants to back out of a bet."

"I'm not a loser if there's no competition." He stands. "And weren't you offering me cocoa a while ago?" He tried changing subject.

Rolling his eyes, Matt stands. "Fine, I'll make you cocoa, but I want my reward for completely smoking you."

Scoffing, Mello said to Matt's retreating back. "Who makes bets with someone that's never played a game before?"

"_I_ _do_. Its how I make my drug money."

Matt's infectious laugh filled the kitchen area. Mello shook his head and for some reason picked up Matt's controller as if it might be a special make and the gamer set him up to lose. "So what's my punishment? I have to tell you my hopes, dreams, and greatest fears?"

"No. I want something a little more heathly than inner revelations."

"Such as?" Mello asks while cleaning up the game.

...

Mello arched from the bed as Matt drove into him over and over, the steady pounding slapped their sweat sticky skin together, and the bed creaked its agony for mercy, fearing that its post would splinter beneath them.

_'Fall in love...'_ Mello thought during a rather ravanous kiss. _'Am I in love with Matt?'_ His hands squeeze the red heads hips as he pulls him in closer to him and deeper inside of him. _'That reaper seemed to think so. Not only that but he said that Matt would be fine but not me... Am I gonna die here? Fall asleep and end up dreaming myself to death?'_

Mello's body lifts from the bed so that he's now seated upon Matt's lap, the blond's knees are hiked up to rest on his lover's shoulders and with Mello's hands gripped firmly against Matt's knees and the red head's hands on his hips to guide him up and down, they both moaned at the liquid fire licking at their insides from the change in position. There seemed to be only one solution to the problem. Never fall asleep again. How hard could it be?

Mello's eyes shot open when a horn honked from a car sitting at a stand still behind him. He hadn't been asleep at the wheels for longer than three minutes and he already felt the effects of that nightmare relm scraping at his sanity. It was weird too, he'd been dreaming that he was doing his job- as he is now- then BAM he's being chased down by these crispy mutts from Hell. Shaking off the sleepy effects he puts the garbage truck into gear, flips off the driver behind him then heads up the street to the next house.

And that was just the next day. By the time Christmas rolled around Mello was a basket case. Sleeping in intervals, waiting around at Matt's house practically glueing them together surgically to ensure that the male didn't vanish on him whenever he let his guard down for a brief cat nap. And by brief he meant it. 3 minutes worth of sleep seemed all he could have, any longer than that and he woke up with a few new bruises.

January came and he was free of his injured ribs with a clean bill of health given to him by the only sane person in that hospital, Lisa Garland. She said he looked like shit. He knew. And damn it if lack of proper sleep wasn't making him somewhat bat-shit crazy. Some days he walked around irritable, chewing off anyone's head over anything, other days he'd continually look over his shoulder believing that the nightmares had escaped his head and were now roaming free on the streets, in his bedroom, and home. And when the panic was truly too great, he'd simply return to his apartment back in his own city. It was like Heaven there, no fears, no pains. He could fall asleep and stay asleep with no nightmares.

February was strange. People were disappearing. A man who owned a convenience store, new place, grand opening, just disappeared after only two weeks of having his business opened. A man who frequented a bar he and Matt went to never came back after a certain point. That was not a big deal but damn if it wasn't strange. There was a trail on television, an old one, the one Matt had told him about during the tour with this Beyond Birthday. Mello would swear his eyes would fall from his head and hit the floor because that was exactly who he'd seen out in the woods when he'd first arrived. So he wasn't in jail after all? Freaky thought. Good thing he never had any reason to walk around the forest alone. He always seemed fine enough when Matt was around him. But he couldn't stay around the red head forever, he's not a psycho.

March was ok. There were few problems inbetween, he'd had one incident though where he fell asleep in the shower and the things he saw... chilling. He'd almost drowned in this black mystery fluid coming from the faucets on never ending degrees. He'd remained up by holding a flash light in his hands flicking the spray of light off and on in his eyes, muttering under his breath. "I'm not tired. I'm not tired." Matt began to think he was suicidal! He didn't trust that he could be left alone and so he stayed over at his place in Old Town and that's where he met someone alike to himself... Light Yagami.


	6. Light Yagami Ruined My Life

Mello was sure that he and Light were in the same boat, the moment the Japanese male mentioned that he was looking for someone named Teru Mikami. And the man he'd described sounded exactly like the man who frequented the bar he and Matt like, the one who'd suddenly stopped coming. Mello had seen him on television in the reruns of the Beyond Birthday murder trial. Mikami was the plaintiff's lawyer. Light had this sad, desparate look in his eyes as he spoke about the missing male. Mello wanted to tell him, but what good would it do? So he guided him from Old Town since the roads have been severely fucked since the end of February. Those weren't the only odd goings-on that happened. This weird siren would sound every night, and a cerfew went up at the police stations and on street corners. Suddenly it wasn't just rest that brought up the strange other world, it happened during early hours, morning, noon, and night. And someone else knew this, and was trying their best to protect every outsider in this town. Mello didn't know who, but he thanked them every night before he drifted safely and unsafely to bed. It got so bad the shifts, that seriously, you could be walking along, or jogging, and then wham-o! The town is in disarray, shambles and rubble; the smell of ash in the air is so thick its suffocating. He's been chased by monsterous animals, deformed people, nasty things with burn marks and twisted blistered skin encasing their bodies. It made the outsider's skin crawl, especially when he went to the other side and found that he wasn't alone. There were others... _were_ being the key word.

They don't have the trash man's cunning, speed, and most importantly... arsenal. He'd practically bought the gun shop out after a nasty run in with a squirrel or maybe it was a bird... yeah, it had to be a bird the damned thing was flying. Although, they do have flying squirrels... no, this flying was more like a bird's. Well, whatever the hell it was, the thing dropped in like a bat out of Hell and practically broke his collar bone by landing those hard hooked feet down on his shoulders. Regardless the mess of lumps under its skin you'd know it had not a stitch of muscle beneath it with as present as the marrow was that stabbed him.

Mello found himself absently rubbing that month old wound as he took a hard swig of beer. Things have been weird with Matt as well, at first anyway, he wasn't really sure as to how to take him now that he knows about his secret. Well, its not really a secret if the person who withholds the secret is unaware of it. Mello had to test a theory that, thanks to that shinigami, has been running through his head since he woke up from his inpromtu trip to the hospital. It was sneaky... it was underhanded... it was _wrong_. He lured Matt into his bedroom in Old Town and stripped him down to nothing, removing his own clothes he lay himself on top of the male and ground into him so deep and so hard, it was a wonder he didn't break the red head's hip bones. He slid himself inside of Matt's body; his one hand gripped tightly to his hair, reddening the male's scalp while the other searched the lining of the mattress for the small slit he'd made earlier while Matt was giving a tour. Withdrawing a knife from the hole, he breaks their kiss. He'd whispered Matt's name to call his lover's attention as he raised the knife above his head.

It took Matt a moment to figure out that Mello had been trying to get his attention; Mello can never erase that look of horror on Matt's face when he'd spotted the knife in his hand, made worse when the sharp blade stabbed down into his gut. He wasn't sure why, but he kept pushing after that, not with the knife... with his length. It was... sort of his way of lessening the blow. And at first Matt fought him, but pleasure seemed to beat pain no matter how dire the situation and he eventually began to rock into him again. The blade moved at the pace of their hips... slowly, then quickly, and slowly again. Mello didn't stop either assault until Matt was choking blood up into his mouth; the coppery taste made him gag but the worst part of all was when he'd heard Matt whisper in utter pain "Mello, please sto-.." But the rest of his words never came, Matt's body sagged and went limp beneath him.

Mello freaked, not all at once but slowly it crept up on him; like a bad meal. It went down good, made him a little nauseas and by the end of it he was throwing up in the bathroom to remove the sour feeling in his stomach. Mello wished it were that simple for him. He'd killed him. He fucking killed him! Matt... Matt's dead! His body trembled on its spot on the floor, tucked away in the corner of the room. But... no. Matt is going to wake up. Like some kind of Pet Cemetery happening. Only he hoped it wasn't exactly like that movie; Indian land, evil capturing the returned body to destroy the person who's got the nerve to live on it. Matt will be fine. The shinigami had said so. Only thing is could he trust the word of his imagination? Panic moved his trembling body over to the bed, it gripped Matt's lifeless, bloody corspe and shook it around like he were a rag doll.

"Matt! Damn it, Matty... wake up! Come on!" He shouted at the heap of human in his grasp. "Open your fucking eyes! Wake up!" He dropped Matt to the bed and drapped himself over his tiny lifeless form. Tears stung his eyes but they didn't fall. He wasn't beaten yet. He just needed to calm down. The mechanics of this town are foreign to him, the return isn't instant. He knows that. Matt took a while coming back when he had died in the hospital from all those burns he'd received. How long would it take him to heal from stab wounds? He had to leave. He can't be around this mess. Getting himself up from the bed took effort, and he walked into the bathroom, already undressed, and climbed into a steaming hot shower. The rich red turned pink as it ran off of him and mixed with the spray of water. He dressed, brushed his hair, stepped into his boots, and grabbed a jacket... just incase.

He was at the bar playing pool well into the night, and just when he was about to wander the streets for something else to do around 3 a.m. Monday morning, he got a call from Matt. The red head sounded disoriented, but not hurt. Asked where he was, and if he were flaking on him again. Mello said no, and returned to Old Town with a bag of donut holes and coffees. He's never experimented with killing Matt again.

Turning his head at the sound of the bell over the door at the bar, he spots Light Yagami standing at the door when he'd stepped aside to let the men exiting out; when Light returned his gaze the blond used the foot of the leg that wasn't propped up on the round table to shove the seat infront of him out. Light would end up as one of the others, Mello was sure about that. He lacked protection, not cunning, just weapons. He was sure that for all the run around this place was giving the poor bastard, he was catching on. He'd seen a woman eaten by a bear once- nothing new- but right in the middle of town? No forest around. No reason for the bear to be there... And boom. Eaten. Didn't help that the bear had an extra head- on its chest!

Taking the offer, Light passes by the other tables decorated with a bowl of beer nuts. Some have pretzels mixed with them from the person that sat there before combining the two snacks together. Light looked like he was taking in the room; Mello had to smirk when the male's nose scrunched at the scent of urine that was residing through the air. It followed the men, who just left, from the bathroom. Must have been some messy, drunken blowout in there. Polished wood floor, clean tables, and the bar shined like brand new, but that smell could nauseate you to refuse an eat or drink.

"Thanks. I have to wait here for someone."

"Mm." Was Mello's response since he was taking a swig of beer from the bottle. "You ever catch up with Mr. Good Fuck?" He had to rib him a little. They're in the same boat after all. He can make fun.

Light, though, took it rather seriously and hissed across the table. "His name is _Mikami_, but no..." And his anger sobered. "I didn't get a chance to see him."

"He stayed out all night? He must have caught wind that you came or something." He snickers. "Never knew a guy, without a night job, to avoid going home. What'd you do to him?" He knew the answer was nothing, but he had to play dumb. Had to keep the new guy from freaking out; where no one had helped him with answers, he'd play the good guy. But telling Light he was fucked... not exactly a good guy act. Light said nothing to the comment, looked as though he were wondering exactly that, though. What had he done?

The journalist cast a bitter gaze at the male. To him, Mello seemed a little less brash than before, but he's still rude. It was odd but, Light suddenly seemed interested in Mello's clothing just then and he caught the male looking him up and down. But before Mello could inquire as to what was so fascinating, Light voiced the reason for the peep show by commenting. "Don't you think you'll be cold? It snowed the other day, in Old Silent Hill; you must have seen it."

Mello withdrew a bit hearing that, but then returned to casually sipping his drink. "I saw it. Not cold, is it?" He had a small and almost secret smile about that.

He watched it register on the male's face that, no, it wasn't cold. He shook the unsettling thought off, and asked. "Did you see Mikami, by the way?"

"What does he look like again?" He set his drink down to pull his hair into a ponytail with a band he produced from his pocket.

"Long black hair, and thick black framed glasses- he also has brown eyes and is kind of on the pale side."

Mello shakes his head. "I've been here since five and I haven't seen anyone like that walk in- hey Sheffield, did you see anyone walk in here today? Pale, long black hair, wears thick framed glasses with brown eyes? Might look like he's been waiting for someone."

The bar tender thinks about the description then shakes his head. "Can't say I have."

A few more people leave the bar as seven approaches. They have to get home since most of them live in the apartment buildings and the curfew wouldn't allow slip ups. Mello can already feel the darkness looming over him.

"Sorry." Mello shrugs looking at the clock. "I gotta get home. You should go too, if you know what's good for you."

"Excuse me?"

"Mikami isn't going to show up, Light. He won't get here in time." Dropping his leg from the table gracefully, though, it landed like it weighed a ton, Mello stands from the table. "Come back to my place for right now, its safer."

"I'm only twenty minutes away from Woodside, and I've got a car, I'll be fine."

"Trust me, you'll want to come with me tonight." He heads for the door.

Light seemed skeptical towards following him, especially when he's being so vague. He wouldn't have followed if it were the other way around, but from the corner of his eye he saw Light get up from the table, he went over to the bartender for what Mello assumed was to tell the man to keep an eye out for Mikami, before he finally emerged from the bar. Mello mounted his red motorcycle, helmet then placed over his head, he tossed a look over his shoulder and waves Light over to climb on, but the journalist shook his head and points down the road.

"Well speed it up! We gotta go!" He shouts from behind his helmet. Mello waited long enough to ensure that Light was coming down the street after him before speeding away down the road. It remained light out, darkness settled in sometime during eight. Light turned on the headlights illuminating the road behind Mello. Honestly, he'd half expected to see something dart across the road, or leap out at him. But it remained clear.

His bike is pulled into the drive up to the dump. Climbing off, he walks over to the gate to open, looking back to give Light a signal to wait a moment. Pulling his gun from the waist band of his jeans, he slips in beyond the gate. It may seem like paranoia to an onlooker but it was nothing like that, he had to be sure that the cross-over hasn't started. It took six minutes to check the perimeter and when he came back to the gate, he opened the gate a little more to allowed the SUV through, and when the large vehical was inside he snapped the gate shut and locked it.

...

"Its a precaution." He says to Light, who asked about his gun while he was rummaging through his fridge. "You hungry?"

"Sure." The journalist took a seat on the couch; the springs sounded under Light's weight.

The place is an unattractive small shack, but when you've been ambushed on the street more often than not, you learn to make due sleeping where you can. He wouldn't be able to make it back to his apartment in time, he stayed out too late. The smell doesn't bother him as one might think it would, because honestly, Mello is sure that the trash he's been picking up some days, isn't really trash. Once, he picked up a large bag from a trash can in front of Mikami's old home and he could swear he felt limbs. You know how when you're looking into brush and you can tell there's a human shape laying within the twigs and leaves and things? It was like that with the trash bag. The only real scent in the air is of a faint burning.

Light blinked down at the object thrown into his lap, and picking it up he gives it a questioning look. "Maybe something with a little more substance." He requests, setting the Hershey bar down on the coffe table, only to have a Snickers thrown into his lap seconds after he's straightened up. "Gee thanks. Does everyone around here have some sort of sweets fetish?" He sets the other candy bar down.

Ignorning the words, he asks. "Do you have protection, Light?" Mello is standing by a small closet now, reaching inside.

Light made a thoughtful sound unsure of what Mello meant.

"Here. I have plenty, you can take two." He tosses two guns beside the man onto the couch. One, a black Beretta. The other has a black handle with a silver barrel.

"That's a 92SF and a 92SB." He sits on a chair beside the couch. "They're the easiest to use as far as reloading and firing."

In awe of the weapons, Light shakes his head over the idea of having to use them.

"What?"

"Civilians aren't supposed to carry firearms, that's for the police to worry about."

Mello scoffed. He's never heard anything so ridiculous in his life. "And where are the police when you're being attacked by rabid dogs, cats, birds, and the goddamned squirrels, huh?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Spare me. Matt said he saw you out on the road yesterday night, from the city security cameras, and you looked like you were in trouble."

"Yeah, I looked like I was in trouble but in reality... I think I was just driving through exhaustion." He then gave Mello a strange, questioning look as if he might be telling him something he just refused to believe.

"What?" The blond snorted. "You look at me like I shit in your mouth or something, you saw them right?"

Light was tight lipped, he'd clearly refused to admit anything. Mello only sniffed at his refusal and denial. Light could use protection, though, incase something bad were to happen. The sound of his lighter flicking to life caught the journalist's attention; Mello was serious about keeping another guy like himself safe, but things seem calm around the area for right now. So he had to take them in directly, and White Claudia always seemed to be the way. Lighting the small stick, he gave it a good suck, two hard puffs, and unsure whether or not it would work from inhale only he held it out to Light, but he refused by waving it away.

Picking up the guns on his lap, Light turned them this way and that in his hand. Anything to avoid Mello's scruntenizing gaze it seemed.

Watching, Mello blows the held puff of smoke through his nose. "Come on," He sits the white roll between his lips. He can feel the effects wrapping snuggly around his brain waves like it were a familiar winter coat coming on in the seasons shifts. Better to start while the world was still formed in slight then when its in full gory swing "I'll show you how to use them." He stands from his chair and walks outside.

Light was hesitant, but then he knew he can't be too certain about anything in this town, so its better just to go along with the locals. Mello had that same mentality when the rumors for the curfew went up.

The two are now outside; Light with the SF in hand, Mello beside him holding his arm to keep the aim steady. "Go for that bag over there." He points at one that, in his eyes is wriggling and writhing.

Light shakes his head to remove the visible smoke-laced sentence Mello had said to him. He hoped like Hell the effects weren't too severe on Light; high was not the best way to be when handling guns. Light seemed to think so as well, because he shot him a side-long glance and was about to voice his concern, but Mello returned his focus to the task at hand when the wriggling bag tore open and Light had yet to stop the thing coming out. Squeezing his hand it pulled the trigger, firing off the gun. Surprised by the sound, Light's hands jolted at the recoil but the pride he took in the bullet easily splinting through the plastic bag made up for the moment.

"Good job. Try one on your own now." Mello shrinks away into the background to leave Light to his own devices. Besides, the new guy is a little slow with this, he has to be sure he has protection for the both of them.

"Alright." Taking aim, his vision through a tiny slit on the top, Light squeezes the trigger. The bullet shot into the same bag but a little further down from the center. A surge of adrenaline coursed through him. "I did it!" He cheered himself this time. Turning to Mello to see if it were a good shot to him, he sees that the man is gone. "Mel-.." He starts to say but is silenced when something within the pile of bags ruffles them in the windless night...

Mello was on the outside looking in and was a bit too upclose and personal because Light swung at him the butt of the handgun. He would have said something, or taken the gun back but truly Light seemed out of his mind at the moment, it was when the drug enduced male shrieked and elbowed him that Mello decided to just made a run for it. He wonder if this is what Matt and other towns people saw whenever an outsider started seeing things? Light was moving around the area now slowly, talking to the moving bags. Asking if anyone were there. Asking about where Mello had gone to. It was frightening. Moreso when he turned to the shack and just sort of froze. His gaze up at the roof. He's staring at something, his face said as much that he was listening to something as it grew more grim with each word he's heard. Mello had cleared the cabin of anything nasty and watched from the window with a candy bar in hand. He'd become accustumed to no longer eating normal food, it was unintentional but it happened. After a certain point when the shifts weren't controlled by morning and night, he'd just sort of snapped. Having to eat food carefully, tiny bites at a time so that he didn't end up with a mouth full of mold and maggot wasn't holding up with him. But chocolate bars seemed untouched- granted aged- but they held up. Worse case scenario he end up with rancid stomach for the night but hey, it wasn't bugs.

Things got ugly when Light ducked and covered into the shack with him; unsure of what the male saw him as, Mello did the smart thing and ducked out of the way so that Light's unpresent mind would believe that he'd shot him, and he damn near did! The journalist came barging into the room waving the gun around like he were a mad postal worker. Mello watched the panicked male board up the door then move to his gun closet.

"Fuck." He muttered trying to scoot away.

Light looked horrified, and asked the air. "What happened to all the guns?"

That gave Mello some insight that they weren't exactly seeing the same thing, because he can still see each and every weapon. At the door, he tugged on the large plank Light set before it. He cursed himself for having the board slip from his grip, the thump it made spooked Light perhaps more than anything because it had him throwing the window open in a panic. He elbowed the screen out and just jumped.

He thought then that Light would be dead by morning, but the man survived, in fact, he approached him that very next day after a run in with Matt. Matt was his way of knowing that Light was safe, because the tour guide brought him to the dump. Mello grit his lover out when hearing him say to Light: remember that they parked at the angry stump, before they exited the car.

"Mello, what happened to you?" He asked. Probably noticed the black eye.

"What do you think happened to me? One minute you're standing there shooting at crap then you fucking turn on me with it."

And Light honestly seemed surprised. "What?"

"You almost shot me you asshole! Then you elbowed me while shrieking like a lunatic!" He whips out a gun aiming it at the older man only to be held back by his lover. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you right now."

"Whoooa there, Mel'." He tries to calm him down. "You wouldn't wanna do something stupid like that."

"I almost shot you? Where the hell did you even go last night?" It seemed it was Light's turn to be angry now.

"What?"

"I turned around and you were just gone. The next thing I know I'm being attacked by garbage monsters!" He looked as if he wished he hadn't said that.

Both Mello and Matt stilled at the words for a moment, then hunched over in a fit of laughter.

"Garbage monsters!" Matt repeats. "Did they stink? Did one..." His words are cut off by laughter. "did one have a tomato in its ear?"

Mello laughed but not as hard as Matt, in fact, he exchanged a knowing look with Light over the matter. He had to understand that speaking about it infront of the locals would receive this type of reaction.

"Doesn't matter anyway." The garbage man ends up saying. Holding out the gun that Light had dropped last night, he hands it back to the male. "Keep it, you may need it. Just make sure you know who you're shooting at next time."

"I will."

Watching the exchange, Matt rolls his eyes, deciding to ignore the entire exchange by whipping out his handheld to get back to his game. He'd done his part, and since his fun in the Old Town is over with, he may as well hang out with Mello for the day.

"Where are you headed now?" Asks the blond.

"Old Town, I have to ask Near something." Light replied looking over at his car. "Where are the car rental places around here?" He asks out of the blue.

"Central." Mello replies. "Matt, take him there."

Having heard his name, sort of, it came in more as 'Att' since he was half in, half out of the conversation. "Wha-..? Why me? You're not doing anything."

"I'm not babysitting the new guy all day. Besides, a tour guide can't bitch when he finally gets some work." Shoving the gamer on the back, he adds. "Now go."

"Alright, alright." Saving his game once again, he stuffs it into one of the large pockets on his hoody, zipping it up once its inside. "Come on."

"Thanks."

...

Later that afternoon Matt told Mello something startling. For a while now, Matt had been bitching and moaning about how he'd wanted a new game but couldn't yet afford it on his salary. But over dinner that night, he'd told Mello that Light was some kind of idiot because he's been leaving notes over at the convenience store in Old Town, buying so much stuff over time that it had added up to at least 50 bucks! He took it, of course, the place is abandoned. It was going to waste there! Mello gave no complaint but he was very mindful of what Matt had said. He'd seen Light's car, sure, but he never knew who was inside of it. This had been going on since January, he'd assumed the male was another random homeowner in Old Town. He'd never changed pattern of manuevering his vehical around the holes in the town, and then he would be gone, and then come back. It was weird, sure, but what about this town isn't? Mello isn't sure what changed, but at one point the man had called him over to ask how to get to Central and he just took him. He had no idea at the time... but Light Yagami, was already dead.

He and Matt scoured the internet sometime during the week of Matt's stabbing and recovery. Mello wanted to find out about hauntings. Matt thought that he was losing it with the whole ghost stories of Silent Hill thing, but he typed as he was told. As far as paying attention, though, he had better things to do and whipped out his PSP.

Mello learned about residual hauntings, something called a death echo. One woman even spoke about an intellegent haunting, where her husband would respond to her questions and even move things like doors and such. Not one person said anything about having sex with ghost, and seeing them in all over the place like it were nothing. Sure, the woman was happy that her husband never left her but she ended her story with a wish that he would move on. It would be better for both of them. There was one other thing he read. It came from a boy named Near. He immidietely believed it was bogus, bullshit, because the kid was albino and probably made his money off of fake seances. But curiosity had him scroll down the report and read. It was kind of freaky, and spoke about all sorts of haunts... the way the kid wrote it, you'd believe he knew who was reading it. The line that caught him the hardest was: _Sometimes we get stuck in the ghost's living loop, as if we ourselves are dead. But if you move away from the spirit the spell will be broken... Never... and I mean, NEVER... bring them to you. An intellegent haunting can live as it pleases, it can also be sent away. One small word, or action to give it away to them that they're no longer alive and they'll pass away to the other side._

A cold chill hit the pit of Mello's stomach then, because of Light. If the man were smart enough to change patterns and move forward in what seemed to be a residual haunting, he could do anything... The blond's teal gaze looked over at his lover. The red head's head in the clouds over his new game. He had to protect Matt. And stop Light. Lucky him, he got the chance to try when the male came over to their place the next night...

"I need your help." Light says walking inside.

"With what?"

"Near, the albino child living in old town said that you and Matt can help me get to Mikami." He gets to the point.

Mello figured there was no need for him to dance around it anymore. "So then you know?" He asked boldly assuming.

"Yeah, Near told me." He follows Mello into the kitchen taking a seat on a stool.

"Hn. Be lucky you were told, I had to find it out for myself." Grabbing a clean dishrag from the drawer beside the sink, and running it under the spray of water he gives it a good ringing out before rubbing it around beneath his left eye. Light's eyes widen in shock. "And this was done to me by Matt."

"Matt? You mean?"

Mello nods. "Matt... died. I'm not even sure when it happened initially; he has no idea... none of the other people in this town do either it seems, because wouldn't he have mentioned something like that?" Light could only blink, he had a guilty sense about him. "This place has no sense of time further than the week they're in. They don't know the month, year, barely what number the date is." Nodding his head his lover's way, he says. "I'd spent the night with him once, it was a night when it snowed. Matt woke me up, he was screaming like he was being attacked. It turns out that he was on fire... I tried everything I could to put him out, but I couldn't. Apparently he was burning in a place where I couldn't reach him. He'd been like that before I met him."

He could tell that Light wanted to say something but nothing came out. Clearing his throat, he finds his voice and asks. "But, how can you-...?" He looks at the gamer knowing their conversation is going unheard since the boy is easily swept into whatever he's playing.

"What, love him? Be with him?" Shaking his head, he waves Light over to the couch pointing for him to sit before he continues speaking. "Because regardless his being dead, it never shows. He's just a normal guy until it snows. Its like some weird thing that happens here; ash falls from the sky- that's why it isn't cold, why it doesn't stick. The air is so thick with death in Central and the Old town its a wonder you don't die from a light jog."

Light seemed to be recalling such an event in his experience here. Maybe he isn't dead... yet.

Grabbing a bag from the side table, he pours some of its contents into an empty ash tray. "You sure you wanna do this?" Mello asks, striking a match against the table top. "If you release him, you'll never see Mikami again... That's why I can't tell Matt what happened." He lowered his voice. "I don't wanna lose him."

"Its different with Mikami... he came to where I lived and because of me, I'll never be able to see him again anyway." Light sighed. "I messed up."

Mello seemed to take that to heart. "Sorry to hear that. Good luck then." Dropping the match, he turns his teal gaze to Light's worried honey colored stare. "Breathe deeply, it won't take long." He walks into the bedroom. This has to work. He figured Light to be the determined type, he's going to free Mikami... but the journalist wouldn't leave it at that. He's the type to start flapping his lips about the place the moment he escapes. That's the last thing he or Matt need.

Light closes his eyes breathing in the scent of the smoke. When the journalist eyes grew heavy, Mello made his move for him. This surprised the man and his eyes popped open with great force. Glancing at him, he's not surprised to see Light's become a little spooked. The place peels away gradually opening up the mouth of the beast, and you bear witness to the horrors drifting about you unseen. The demons and monsters, the effects brought upon you. He'll never get used to being blind in one eye, but it no longer hurts. Light shook his head when seeing what Mello is up to, which is tying Light up by his ankles. A rope is already around his arms pinning them down.

In a hazey voice he asks. "What are you do-..."

He was gone before he could finish his sentence.

With a frown on his lips Mello watches Light's twitching body; the blood on his knee, showing through his clothes is alarming and he's wondering if he should wake the man up before something dire happens to him. He knows what its like to be there, to be on the otherside. Only he didn't get the option of going willingly, he was brought there by mistake- _Light's_ mistake. Because of his love for Mikami the rift between the two worlds became more of a- whenever IT feels like it kind of thing, rather than the horror just happening at night. The damn ashes of snow the only warning before something mysterious happens. Like with Matt's accident. Matt behaved as though he was alone on the couch, in the room, in the world. Its always been a painful memory, not because Matt had placed his hand directly over his eye without knowing it and burned away the flesh and hair from it and his vision in that eye, but because he couldn't help Matt; in the end the male lay on the floor screaming until he'd stopped breathing. Mello brought him to the hospital and he got emergancy care but it was futile. He was placed in the hospital morgue. Mello left the town, thinking that he'd never come back. But one Monday, Matt wrote him a letter asking where the hell he was and why he hadn't come to see him in a while. Sure that it was a joke, he went, if only to punch the asshole tricking him in the face, but there he was in their favorite cafe in Central playing his handheld, actually dropping it when seeing him.

_'That was when I'd found out about this place, or at least what I could. All I know is that its fucked up, like some weird kind of magic. Dark magic, that pulls people in, sewing the outside world into its graveyard quilt unless you can find an angle to work. I'd always wondered why the hell Matt kept saying, "you have this many days and that" suddenly, but I know now that this town has a limit, a reset. You're free to live as you want and no matter what happens once the reset comes, you'll be right back where you started from. It's nothing short of living forever, but you're dead anyway and bound to the place of death. And its trying its damndest to bring more people under. That's why I can't stay here, I won't be pulled in. No matter how many times I get sucked into the darkness, I won't succumb to it completely. For Matt's sake, and my own.'_ Looking at the gamer, who's giving him a curious stare, Mello smiles at him before walking over to take his hand.

Cocking a brow, as if he's being lured into something romantic and cheesey, he asks. "What's all this?"

"I'm gonna go home again tomorrow. I thought we should say a proper goodbye until we see each other again."

"Sweet." Looking over his shoulder, he asks. "And what about him?"

"He'll be fine. Come on."

Mello stripped Matt like a Christmas present, his own clothes tossed aside as if they were little more than rip-aways. Shoving his lover down onto the bed, he slides his hands down along his back, and with little preparation made he shoves into him. Moaning from the pressure and heat encasing him as his bare hips pop against the back of his lovers thighs, driving his member deeper into him. Leaning over, he takes a good nip at the gamers neck breaking the skin, sucking feverishly at the blood and slowly raising welt. He knows it won't matter later on, it'll just be a memory rather than a hickey. It amazed him how the dead could bleed, but then it is an unknown force they deal with every time they step into this city, so why wonder anything. Moving his knee between Matt's parted thighs he further spreads him open by giving his knee a quick shove with his own before returning to his monsterous ramming. Matt's cries into the pillow voiced his appreciation and his torso arched with the dipping of his head.

The gamer took his lover's hand guiding it up to his chest, where Mello gladly teased and pinched his sensative nipple. To ignore Light muttering his name outloud from the otherside, he presses deep kisses to Matt's mouth, having Light drowned out by Matt groaning loudly as his member is rapidly jerked by Mello's free hand. The tightening around his member added to further silence Light as Mello seemed to be heading into another world of his own. It wasn't long before the two collapsed, spent and dead to the world. Laying on their sides kisses are shared between them, but Mello pulls back because something has started weighing on his mind now that his distraction is over. Brushing his slim fingers through the sweaty bangs of his bed partner, he sighs. "Matt?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you happy? I mean, really happy?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I be?"

Mello shrugs. They're quiet for a moment, but again Mello has something to say. "Would you be upset if you never saw me again?"

Matt didn't like where this conversation was going and decided to ignore it by changing subjects. "I got a high score in Super Smash Brothers, I'm the king of playing Link in that; and in World of War-..."

"Answer the damn question, Matt!" Snaps the blond, releasing his intimate hold of the male he leans up on one elbow to look down at the man. "Would you be upset if you never saw me again?!"

"Yes, I'd be fucking upset! Dammit Mello, half the time it feels like you're the only thing that's real in this damned life! Is that what you wanna hear?" He sits up to loom over his lover and show that he isn't some push over, also that if Mello plans to leave him for good he's gonna have one hell of time trying to escape. He'd kidnap him if he had to. Something about the end of the week always freaked Matt out somewhere in the back of his mind, like some horrible doom is coming. Its always been his deepest wish that Mello would stay with him just one time, but the blond always up and leaves before Monday morning.

Mello's two colored eyes stare at the male raging with passion, hard breaths lower and raise his chest in hard puffs. "I'm not leaving you, I just wanted to know." He caresses the Matt's cheek only to have the hand smacked away right before the brunet coils himself up into his arms.

"Well its a stupid ass question- pointless too." He added quickly after. "Would I be upset?" He scoffs. "Go check on Light, stupid." Rolling out of his lovers grip he then cuddles himself against the pillow as if ready for bed.

"All right." Getting out of bed, he grabs his boxer shorts, unaware of the admired free show he's giving the brunet who's looking over his shoulder watching. After Mello pulled on his jeans and shirt, he walks into the living room then rushes back into the bedroom. "He's gone!"

"What?" Throwing the covers aside, he gets up as well. "Where'd he go?" He's grabbing for his clothes.

"How would I know! Just help me find him." He disappears back into the living room. Light can't have gotten far.


	7. Ending One

A.N: Like Light's story 'The Taking Town' this has two endings, the chapter is the same but the end is different. You can choose one or read both, its up to you. Enjoy. Fantasy.

...

Mello and Matt searched the floor for Light but aside from an open window at the end of the hall, there was no sign of the male at all. "Where could he have gone?" Asked Matt when they met up on the second floor.

"Maybe he had somewhere to be?" Replied Mello.

He knew better, sure, Light could be on the other side with as much White Claudia as he's inhaled. But there's also a good chance he wasn't that far under and is now somewhere sleep walking. That could be far more dangerous than being swept up. That puts you in the real world but you're moving around as if you're in the other. That's how normal people get shot. That's how you get hit by a car and believe it to have been a monster. Dead as half the town is, you still exist as if you were in any normal world. And Mello can't imagine what jail must be like, if the abandoned prison beneath the History Museum is anything to go by, that's where the real coocs hang out.

"Alright," Throwing his hands up, he plops them down onto his lover's shoulders. "I know you're gonna leave tomorrow, but maybe you could spend some of the day with me before you go?"

"Doing what?"

"I have a job,"

"Yeah, that thing at the police station, you do that at night. I can't go."

"No, not that job. Someone hired me to make a mural at the old elementary school."

"You draw?"

"Constantly." He traces his finger along Mello's neck, used to the burn that runs a little along the path to his shoulder.

He wondered how it had gotten there, but Mello claims that it was from a fire that happened at his old apartment. And Matt is very sure that no such fire took place, so he leaves it alone now. However it got there, Mello believes its none of his business and it shall remain so.

"What do you think I'm doing to you everytime we're naked?"

Being smart, Mello smirked then said. "Getting over a childhood issue with touching people."

And he poked him in the gut. "I'm drawing tattoos, you dick." Smiling, he places a kiss to the blond's neck. "You really should let me give you one, I'll get the mirror image of it."

"Yeah, trust you with a needle near me... sounds like a bad idea."

"I may be a lot of things, but I don't do injections."

"Mhm." He starts down the hall for the elevator. "I'll be there, but don't expect me to help you with anything. I can't even draw stick figures without making one limb longer than the other, and if you want a face on it, it'll come out microscopic."

Matt laughed at the idea of a large head with a tiny body and even smaller facial features.

Wrapping his arms around his lover's waist, he follows him back to his apartment.

...

Sunday morning 5:22 a.m. He and Matt are in Old Town up by the elementary school. He hasn't seen Light since yesterday night when the male came over looking for help with his Mikami problem. Although, from what Matt's said, it would seem Light has found someone else in town to occupy his time. He said he was going out with some guy named L.

Ssssskiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiii! Rattles sound after this, followed by another. Sssskiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

Matt's humming kept Mello focused from drowing in his own thoughts. It sounded like he were humming some sort of nursery rhyme. Maybe 'This Old Man' or something close to that. Weird thing about it; and believe it when he says he wanted to ignore it, is that Matt's humming would sometimes sound like more than one person. He could even swear he heard words along with it. But when looking at the red head, he'd see nothing but tightly pressed lips while he focuses on the task at hand. Leaning against his lover's car, he cocks his head to take in what of the mural had been done. He's painting a bunch of kids, holding hands and skipping. Matt's been at this for some time since there are already three kids of ethnicity done already. The next kid looked like he were going to be white.

"Can you believe this school is going to reopen?" The artist says randomly.

"Why was it closed?"

"Some kid was disposing of his classmates- at least- that's what rumors say." Matt shrugged. "Anyone who survived the onslaught said it was a classmate named Beyond."

"Like the serial killer?"

"Mhm. One other girl called him... shit, it was on the news all the time back then. Why can't I remember the name?"

Mello smiled at Matt as he scratched his head in thought over all his tour guide tales. His teal gaze followed the buildings length to the front door. He perked up when he spotted someone beyond the glass window of the double doors peeking out at him. Shooting a glance to Matt who was firing off names that might sound close to or possibly be the culprit's other name, Mello pushed himself from his lean on the hood of the car and started for the door. It was a stretch that it was an actual person who'd been peeking at him, but like he said, since Light went ahead and fucked everyone over by snagging Mikami from his position in this world the darkness comes and goes as it pleases.

So where it could be a man, it could also be a monster. He touched his lower back to be sure his guns are with him. The metal, warmed by his body heat, pressed deeper into his skin on contact. Shoving his hands against the long thick bar attached to the door, he pressed his weight into it, surprised that it gaveway to his advancement. He felt an instant chill run up his spine once the thick metal door closed behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he made a mental note that he can't see Matt from where he is, but from a window he'd have perfect view of the red head. If he can still see Matt outside, he should be alright while looking around.

He had a pretty fucked up dream a month back. He woke up to the smell of smoke, it was suffocating his lungs, and stinging his eyes. He slammed himself into this wall and that- he was trapped in a cell! A small, concrete room that seemed to be almost a little niche in the wall. The only thing that gave him hope was the door before him, it had a small round window in it. Surely someone would pass by and see him inside.

"Help! Help me!" He'd banged on the metal door, screaming and coughing.

There were people outside of the door in a larger room, all watching him through the glass, but none close enough to see the anguish on his face. Where the smoke was coming from, he didn't know. But when it got hot, the panic really sank in, and he screamed and hollered, and even went as far as to slam himself into the door.

Hoping his weight would push it open, but it dawned on him that he was shorter than usual. Very short, kid short. Was he a child? He stood on his tip toes to try to catch his reflection in the window, and to his horror he saw that it was not his face reflecting back at him, but Matt's! As if the realization made it all the more real, his body moved on its own accord standing up and moving over to the window again.

"Mommy! Mommy! Help me!" He cried as he banged on the glass.

A woman made eye contact, but looked away as tears fell from her eyes. Flames licked at his back just then, and smacking himself against the door, he felt the panic, he felt the heat, he felt his throat tear as he screamed when the flames engulfed him.

When he woke up the next morning, he questioned Matt about his childhood, he both remembered and didn't remember it very clearly. He was seven when his mother dropped him off at his grandmother's, said she just scooped him up and headed off as if they were hiding out and running away from something. He never questioned it, just knew that he'd never seen his mother again after that.

Being in this school foyer felt a lot like that dream. Sufficating and ominous. Only he isn't asleep. He hasn't been smoking anything other than nicotine. And he has two guns in the ready incase there's trouble. So he felt strength brace him as he shoved open the door that would put him directly in the school building. Even in daylight it was strangely dark inside; Mello looked from left to right wondering which way the intruder would go.

The white tiled linolium floor is polished pretty nicely, for the school to be abandoned. They really must be prepared to re-open it. Even the wooden counter-esque desk in the front office has a nice finish to it. It was weird that a slew of paperwork remained scattered and untouched about the little opened room. As if the place had just opened its eyes to being inhabited again, and returned everything to the way it was before anyone had ever left it. But why would a school just be up and abandoned due to a seriel killer? Wouldn't he just follow his classmates to the next building?

A huge white light caught Mello's peripheral vision, he turned his head in time to see a large white ball drift from one of the rooms down the hall and out through the ceiling. Shortly after that a kid emerged from inside; he has white hair- snow white hair! He looks about 12 years old, maybe younger, Mello had to ponder this when the boy turned his head and looked his way; smirking, he floored it through a pair of double doors.

"Wait!" Hurrying after the kid, he nearly collides with the door it slammed in his face so abruptly. Grabbing the long bar, he gave it a tug but it didn't give. The kid locked it! "What the hell?" Turning his head to the room the young boy had just exited, he spots a woman in the corner, her face and body pressed into the wall where the two ends meet.

Opening the door, a quick glance around he identifies that its a nurses' office; and the slumped form in the corner is the school nurse. "Hey, lady." Striding over to her, he grabs her by the shoulders. "Are you alright?"

But when he turned her around, he sees that her eyes are completely blank, whited over, devoid of anything that ever was or ever would live again. He pondered calling the police, getting an ambulance for her or something. Did that kid do this? And how? It didn't seem possible to just... what- rob a body of its soul, and sight? Mello laid the woman out down on the floor. It was the least he can do than to have her pressed into the wall like some old prop from a movie. Walking back through the room, he came upon the double doors again.

Raising his leg, he slammed his booted foot into the jamb of the doors; it rattled hard before it gave on the second kick and the doors knocked open. The hall houses a few doors that undoubtedtly were classrooms. Problem was where, had that kid run off to?

"I'm not a bad guy..." He spoke to the air. "So, you don't have to worry. Just come on out, and I'll see that you get home." Mello walks up the hall peeking into the thin rectangle window panes for movement. He saw none. Damn. He should have followed him a lot faster.

Why would a young boy be walking around inside an abandoned school? Is he dead? Cursed to walk the school grounds forever... He's never seen it, but he's read about it once or twice. He and Matt were looking into it and ghost stories were aplenty from all over the world.

"Little boy!" He called out.

A door slammed from upstairs. Rushing to a row of stairs, he darts up the first seven, turns on the landing then sprints up the next eight to the second floor. Talk about a difference in interior. This part of school has seen better days. Its darker too; didn't the designer ever hear of having a window in the hall? Spotting a light switch he flips it up. Nothing. Down. Up. Down. Up. It was official, there is no electricity in this part of the building. Wonderful. And he didn't feel he needed to bring his penlight with him today either, because its daylight! Grabbing the knob of a classroom door, he pushes it open.

Walking in, he strolls across the spacious room: desk sit neatly in a row before the thick wooden desk in front of the classroom, the chalkboard still had an assignment written on it. Science. A tack-board even had drawings of plants and atoms stuck to it. A few lockers in back. A chair's legs screeched when he shoved it aside to make his way through the row of desks; getting to the window he looks down into the front yard, spotting Matt still down below spray painting, he lets out a relieved breath. Turning the lock over, he gives the window a tug but it won't open.

Muttering bitterly over the situation, he bangs his hand into the glass. "Matt! Matty!" He called down. The red head looked left, right, then up. "I'm up here! Look right!" He waved his arms in a scissoring motion to get the male's attention.

Taking a step back, Matt shields his forehead. "What are you doing in there?! Using the toilet?!"

He could barely make out what Matt said, but he called down anyway. "I'm chasing this kid! Did you see him come out?!"

Unsure of what it was that Mello had said exactly, Matt replied. "Just me!" He shakes his head. "Better get out of there, though, its supposed to be haunted!"

"Yeah right, you know I don't believe in that stuff!" He lied. Because with each passing month he was beyond a believer. He could re-write the books. "I'm gonna look around for the kid a little more, then I'll be right out!"

"Okay! Oh, and hey?!" He called up before Mello could disappear. "I remembered that kid's name! It was Dineas!"

"Din-ay-es?" Mello pronounced it. "Um, thanks! I guess..." Pulling himself back from view he then turns around. Maneuvering through the desk; his hand rest down atop one when a tight fit between two desks stopped his pace.

The unusual thing about it was that his palm was not met with a smooth surface as his brain was ready to transmit. It was bumpy... up-risen, and bumpy. Mello's back stiffened, his whole body frozen in place. His teal gaze slants, tracing from his boots, to the legs of the desk, to the corner of the desk, to where his hand is placed on the desk top... and there... beneath his hand... lay another. Jumping a foot sideways, Mello slammed into the chair and desk beside him, his hand recoiled from the desk top and landed on the rim of the seat beside him to keep him supported from falling to the floor. Widened eyes look at the offending area where the hand had been resting, but to Mello's surprise there wasn't anyone sitting there!

His breaths shudder from his nostrals and throat as he tries to calm his prickled nerves. He's seeing things, that's all. There was nothing there to begin with. How could there have been? "Oh god..." Mello let his weight sag into the seat he'd just knocked into. Placing his hands to his face, he closes his eyes waiting for his breath to steady. "I'm too fucking jumpy for this." He declared to no one.

At least, he thought he was alone... Mello didn't hear the soft foot steps creeping along the aisle of desks behind him. He didn't notice the wrinkled flesh colored mass moving his way; not until the knife in its hand raised and popped into the desk before reaching its full height. Mello looked over just in time to dodge the blade as it came swooping down on him. Hitting the floor, the condemed male reached for his guns before he could even get to his feet and upright himself to turn over. The creature had no hurry in the world, its pace was very even as he strolled through the obstructing desks to where its target lay scrambling.

The window was blocking off its main features since the early light of day was behind it, casting shadows over its front; but even with little amount of light Mello could tell that this thing wasn't human. It's naked, skin bubbled and burned up, the face was perhaps the most horrible part. Its eyes are goopy pockets from where the eyeball ruptured in the heat- if it were burned at all, that is- the nose gone, ears gone, and the mouth was deformed shut but it twisted and knotted around as if it wanted to open up and speak but the only thing that came out was some weird dolphinesque sound, or maybe a dozen broken jack-n-the-boxes all being cranked at once under water.

The knife scraped against another desk when the child-sized creature tried to strike Mello again. He was literally being cornered; doing little to stand himself upright and instead was scooting his heels against the floor backing himself against the wall. Taking aim, he opened fire... He thought one shot to the head would drop it easy, but the creature seemed deathless and it only roamed closer. How was that possible?! Everything could be taken out by a shot to the head! Everything!

Firing again, this time in the body, he at least saw that it could be hurt when it staggered back a step from the force of the bullet hitting organs and tugging it. Mello emptied an entire clip into the thing before finally, it fell to the floor; head down right between his leather clad legs. Mello sagged right along with his escaping breath. Shifting uncomfortably when the oozing blood squished beneath his legs and butt. Raising a knee up, he opens his eyes to make sure he had something to hold onto to help him up so that he wouldn't slip; and an odd movement from the monster caught his eye. It wasn't about to get up again? Was it? The doctors and nurses from the hospital crossed his mind, the one from the hall in particular.

Standing, Mello loomed over the child-sized thing and slammed his boot down hard into the wriggling worm in its back. He stomped the thing until the pool of blood almost covered the entire back of the room. Holding onto the protruded trim of the tack board for help, Mello takes a step out of the mess. A chill ran up his spine, like it would if a window were left open during a cold and windy winter day.

The lockers in the back of the room began to rattle and shake as if a caged animal were inside them; and if that weren't creepy enough sounds of screams filled his ears, hollow and echoing around like it were reverb from another room and its coming from a ventalation shaft rather than being here in the room with him. He didn't wanna look. Mello didn't wanna see what was coming. But when the corner locker popped open, Mello's head turns to look over his shoulder. Curiosity is a bitch and it grabbed him by the ankles nicely and firmly to have him actually stay in a place where he knows activity is about to happen.

His eyes nearly popped out of his head when bony, pale, long fingers wrapped around the edge of the door like they could reach the other edge. It was in slow motion. The air thickened and chilled over when a boot lowered to the floor, covered in blood, the black pants tattered and worn, a blood stained long white coat- no, not a coat... it looked more like a straight jacket. Mello lost his footing when he tried to run... he had to get away! Because exiting the locker was the man in the woods! The one who'd helped topple his car from the cliffside; his red eyes practically glowed they were so severe, even from that distance they were present.

Mello grunted when his hands and knees hit the bloody mess on the floor; humiliation a thing of the past, he crawled his way to the door and pulled it open. There was the option of shooting him, but he emptied his clip into that kid only minutes before. That kid tried to knife him, what would this guy do? Horrified, he watched from a stooped and poised to run position from the door as the man from the woods lurked over the dead body; his head bobbed from left to right as if he were drunk and trying to see something with a clear mind.

A large purplish welt lumped out from the side of his head at the temple, then another and another until this long- almost snout-like- protrution covered his entire head like a fucked up version of The Man in the Iron Mask. The monster salivated while leaning over the corpse, and the sick thing of it was that Mello heard crunching sounds mixed in with the slurpy squelch of tearing flesh. He's eating it! That picture didn't need to be painted anymore vivid and Mello flew from the classroom dodging a bunch of squeaking black mist that flew out along with him, like kids let out to recess or mist from a spray bottle. Just an unruly flurry of escape. The huddled mass in the classroom, the corpse... it was screaming... Mello made his way out of the building as quickly as he could.

He would never unknow the things that went down inside. Never stop hearing the children singing, like they were playing jump rope, about a child who butchered people as he burst through the double doors into the foyer. "Matt! Matt!?" Whirling, he wondered where the hell that guy had run off to. He never said to leave. Checking his watch, he notes the time. 6 o'clock a.m. Where would Matt go at a time like this? Rubbing his face, he sprints up the road towards the dump. He needs something strong to drink.

...

Its late Sunday morning, around nine o'clock, which is much too late for what was about to go down in Old Town. Mello still had a long trip back home to get started on, but he found himself conked out for a mid-morning nap at the dump. He didn't realize how tired he was after the school episode until he landed on the couch in the shed. When he woke up, he figured he may as well work a little since Matt took off on him, he could just leave for home directly after; Matt would understand since it wouldn't be the first time he's left Silent Hill without a physical goodbye. And when a car began to familiarly stalk him, Mello couldn't seem to shake the habit of being a nice guy, so he pulled the dump truck to a stop.

Looking out the window he rolled his eyes before exiting the car; the blue jump suit felt like loose skin on his thin frame. "What is it now? I helped you out, so get lost."

"Be lucky I don't put a bullet in your head." Light snaps while exiting his car as well. "Do you realize that I jumped out of a window to the next building? If L hadn't seen me, I could have fallen to my death!"

"How is it my fault that you started moving? I tied you down!"

"No, you tied me up. And seeing how that turned out, I'm lucky you didn't tie me down because I could have died right there when the ceiling came down into the burning room I woke up in."

Mello's teal eyes widen in shock. "You... saw the fire? Where's Matt?" Concerned and worried that Light might have done something stupid to get Matt killed, he steeled himself to the idea of knocking the man unconscious and tossing him into the trash with the rest of the burnables.

He knows Matt grew up in this town, and he knows that bad things happen when you remind the town that something is up. These thoughts began to dawn on him while he was walking back to the dump site. Maybe that freaky little child he's been seeing is the one landing all those bodies in the metal trash cans lining the street. He could be... he could be releasing souls like one of those damn priest in the movies. He can't let that happen. Light was only supposed to be looking for Mikami. What's changed?

"At the station in Central, he's with L."

The tension leaves him instantly. "So then what do you want? Didn't you find Mikami?"

"I did, but I couldn't talk to him. I came back here to speak with Near and see if he can tell me what I did wrong."

Mello's gaze follows Light's as he looks down the road to where Levin street is. "Then what did you stalk me for?" Wonders the blond.

"Do you have any White Claudia on you?" He got to the point. No, 'just missed you' or 'heard you were in the neighborhood, and wanted to say, hi'.

"Yeah." He looks Light over suspiciously. "Why do you need it?"

"I need to go back." He starts for his car; and talking over his shoulder, he makes sure that Mello is listening. "This time I will free Mikami of this place, but I need your help getting to the otherside again."

Mello stared after Light's retreating back, then with a roll of his eyes he says a hefty. "Fine. But this is the last time." Walking back to his truck he waits for Light to lead the way to this Near's place, and he follows.

It was like some sick, ongoing, joke. This Near that Light spoke of, was the kid he'd been seeing here and there whenever he went to the other world. He's all and 4'11", white hair, very dark gray eyes that look black. His face was deadpanned to an art form, and he looked both Light and Mello up and down with all the scrutiny in the world.

"Mistake number one was getting tied up." Cocking a thin grayish brow, he asks. "Mello was it? You could have gotten Light killed by that stupid mistake; but then you didn't really know so, it really isn't your fault." Walking into his home, the boy assumed them to follow and he takes a seat on the couch; his hand reached to start up a fire engine that's on the coffee table.

"Who are you calling stupid?" Barks the blond watching the child play with his toy as if he's the only one in the room.

"The mistake." Says Near. "Do you consider yourself a mistake, Mello?" He asks calmly.

Light couldn't help but hide a snicker at the comment. From anyone else it would have come off as an insult, but from Near it just sounded as if he were talking to no one in particular.

Mello grit his teeth, fist balled.

"Did you manage to talk to Mikami?" Near focused now on Light, seeing that he'd won round one with the stranger in the situation.

"No." Light hung his head. "I did see him, though, the place where he died- its in the tower at the bridge."

"Hmm." He intones thoughtfully.

"So, what was the problem." Near is quiet a moment, then replies. "It seems that Mikami is bound in two places. Here and where you sent him after he'd missed the reset in those three months he was with you in Kanto."

'So he was the one that started the rift between here and there.' Thinks Mello glaring at Light for making his life a living hell.

This world is growing darker and darker each passing day and its all because of this nosy reporter from Japan. The time within here and there was shortening with each snow fall. Pretty soon the whole damn place will be nothing but a moving cemetery- well, of the worst kind. Seeing them as people will no longer be possible, there will be nothing but charred human's walking the earth, or those creepy headless things in the outskirts. He never understood what went on there and he didn't want to know. Having to clean up dead bodies that appear in trash cans after this Near person frees the soul from this place was enough to keep him busy for months and years. He had always wondered how it were possible for those bodies to show up. Now he knows for sure. But honestly, he never expected this kid.

The guy on the flyer was kind of a double take, but Mello just figured the flyers were some sort of reflection of the kids inner-self, a drawing, air-brushing; people wanna look good right? Mello had to mentally slap himself for complimenting the kids looks, his gaze snapping away when he caught Near watching him.

Smirking, the albino child then turns his attention back to Light. "We'll have to recover where his soul drifted to in order to get him back on the right course, once we do that you can speak freely to him; I don't need to tell you about the urgency in the matter. Only say what needs to be said, don't expand your time with him longer than it needs to be."

"I won't." Light sure sounded unsure of that.

Mello could tell that, like himself, he'd gone through something this morning and it hit him hard. He was hit pretty hard himself at the school. Digging into the pocket of his jumpsuit, Mello holds out a white stick to the child. "Here. Its the only one I have, so you'd better do this right."

"Thanks. But I won't be needing that." Damn the kid could act smug. "I can get there on my own, and I'll be taking Mr. Yagami with me."

Cocking a brow, Light parts his lips to speak but it seemed that Near was already ahead of him in thought.

"The reason I sent you to them is so that you could take care of the matter on your own; as I've told you, when we'd spoke before, you and I share a gift for seeing spirits. Only difference is that we can communicate with them, whereas others can't. You, Light Yagami, are a novice and can't manipulate the worlds as I can, so I have to help you. The reason I didn't do so in the first place is because I've never tried it with another person before" And he ignored Mello's scoff to the unspoken underlying sentence. "and it may not have worked."

"Its fine, I'm ready to go whenever you can take us there."

Listening, Mello takes that as his insentive to go. "If that's settled then I'm-..."

"No." Near says tightly. "You have to stay here. Mr. Watari, my aid, is gone for the day and I need you to watch our bodies while we're on the other-side. If we look too banged up, you'll have to wake us up manually if I can't find a way to pull out."

The two sit in a dead-locked gaze of 'are you shitting me' versus 'do as I say'. It was Mello to break contact first by walking over to an arm chair and dropping his weight down into it, he lounges in it as if it were his own; one leg draped over the arm of the chair the other leg to the floor, leaving him to look shamelessly splayed out for sex or something close to it.

"Just see that he does it this time. Yagami seems as bright as a wet sheet of paper."

"To give paper any intelligence at all leaves your own questionable." Standing from his seat, he stands before Light.

The boy missed it when Mello flipped him off as a retort. He watched as the journalist caught his breath when the child's hands come up to his temples.

"Put your arms around me."

Doing as he's told, Light wonders out loud when he notices the cock in Mello's brow. "Will this help?" He clearly felt weird holding onto an eighteen year old that looks like a fourteen year old.

"No. But I don't wanna hit the floor when we cross over." His dark grey eyes close and he breathes in deeply taking in Light's scent of sex, and natural body odor. When his senses and mind are swimming, he can feel his spirit pushing forward from his body.

Mello watches, mouth parted in shock seeing a white mist leave the child's form to go into Light's body. How can any of this be real?! If he didn't see half the things he's seen being here, he never would have allowed himself to believe this. When Near's body wilts into Light's both men remain clutched in each others arms, slumped on the couch.

Cocking his head, Mello though that the angle looked really uncomfortable and it had the chaperon wondering about moving them. He need only to lift Light's legs to lay across the couch anyway. Getting up from his seat on the armchair he stoops down and grabs the man's legs, with a grunt of complaint from the weight of legs that are officially dead-to-the-world, he moves the man's legs to rest along the length of the couch; glad when the young boy's body moved right along with the action. Although the journalist isn't that much older than himself, he looked like a father sleeping with his child in his arms.

Smiling at the thought of times he'd take a nap in his mother's arms, he returned to his place back on the armchair and pulled a candy bar from his pocket to eat while he waits. He only hoped this little trip didn't take long. He can already feel the other world scratching at the thin layer of normalcy this town allows.

Standing, he walks over to the window to look up at the sky. Clear and grey so far. Mello wondered if this was Near's doing? The kid has freaky powers that no one but the kid himself is aware of the real inner workings of. The air is so thick. Would he be pulled in unintentionally while the two of them are over there in complete control? Would he be left here, fending for himself while having to protect their bodies? Near sure made it sound that way. But everything seemed quiet for the time being. Turning, he walks back to the couch; eyeing the pair.

Light grunted in pain; and a bit of blood trickled from the child's knee, the long red trail slid all the way to his foot and the droplets fell from his toes. How was this method safer exactly? Mello can only stare in horror as blood stains Light's arm, he's even more shocked by the tear of blood running down from the man's closed left eye.

He reached out to shake them, wake them up- after all, he had agreed to watch them- but maybe they were handling things, roughly, but handling it. Last thing he wanted was more lip from the brat and angst from the grieving journalist. Better to just leave them alone. Retracting his hand, he chose pacing to occupy his time. It was an hour later when something slammed into the front door; Mello gasped out of surprise but quickly removed his revolver from the pair of jeans he's wearing under his blue work suit. Crouching beside the couch, poised to kill, he waits for whatever it is to get through the door.

The pounding was steady enough to get in time with the ticking hand of the clock that counts off seconds in the background of every home. Just when Mello was sure the creature would enter, the attempts to get inside subsided and the room grew quiet. Releasing his breath in a slow stream from his mouth, he looks at the sleeping pair wondering for the umpteenth time just how long it was going to take for the journalist to say goodbye.

The next hour came, and even from his place on the floor beside the sleeping pair he could see the snowing ash falling from the sky. The home seemed to be making itself comfortable in a memory of a former family because the couch suddenly disappeared from beneath Mello's elbow.

He swayed, but didn't fall over like some comical cartoon character who suddenly has the floor vanish from beneath him. It didn't end there, though, many things moved and shifted about the room. It was as if Silent Hill were at war with itself and couldn't decide whether it were 1997 or 2011. The coffee table went from a glass surface to wooden. It was making Mello's head spin. Twice Light and Near vanished from the room, to where, he was unsure but they would come back no worse for wear than when they had gone.

Noises from the bedroom kept Mello on high alert; but he's only one man and could not watch every aspect of the home. It was when he stood up to give his crouching legs a break from falling asleep beneath him that he was hit straight in his back by what felt like a brick while it actually had no physical form.

Mello's body moved on its own, literally it took him across the room to the kitchen where he grabbed a dish towel, wet it in the sink, and had him hurrying back through the living room where he was knocked unconscious by what felt like falling debris. Much like the possession that took over him, Mello didn't see what hit him, but he felt it. His staggering body toppled him onto the armchair where he remained knocked out cold, unaware of anything and anyone around him...

It was Near who woke him when the child jumped up from his unconscious state and violently started beating on Light's knocked out body. "Light, wake up! Wake up!"

Roused from his sleep, Mello sees that its completely dark outside from when the sun just went down, or maybe its been dark for a while! "What's going on?"

"Something happened, Light might be stuck." Near shouted to Mello when seeing his movements. "Help me wake him up."

Mello deadpanned, the pipsqueak medium had to be kidding? How many times was this guy gonna screw himself over, and fuck everyone else in the process? "No! Do you know what time it is? Yagami is on his own."

"Then take him with you when you leave. He can't get stuck here- go now!"

Mello was a bit taken aback by the sentimentality because, since meeting the kid, it was the most emotions he's shown. It was kind of sweet that he cared that much really. It had Mello question just how well the two knew each other. But he was sick of being bossed around by a child; regardless, he rolled his eyes as he caught himself gathering the man up from the couch, with help from the younger male. If he gets stuck here... he'll see to it that both of their souls are eaten by that gluttonus reaper so he'll, hopefully, never see either of them again.

The siren starts blaring overhead when the front door flew open. The air has thickened with ash and black as they cross the yard swiftly to get to Light's car. At this point it will move a lot faster than a garbage truck. Pulling a handgun from the waistband of his pants, he fires at a hellhound rushing their way. The dog howled when the bullet plowed through its brain and out the other side.

Keeping his eyes peeled, the two load the spellbound man into the backseat. "Do you need a ride?" He snaps at the child, stress evident in his entire being right then. Closing the door once Light is secured, he crosses around to the driver's side.

"Don't bother with me, just get him out of here." Mello starts the car; he could feel the medium's dead-gaze on them the entire drive up the street. He was probably thinking the same thing that was going through his own mind. Will they make it out?

1 month later...

_This letter is addressed to everyone resident in Silent Hill, including myself. But before I tell you anything, I have to ask that you take a look at your life as it is and honestly answer if you're happy. Do you have kids to think of? Are you in love? If the answer is 'yes' to even the smallest of questions then please don't read any further; just be happy... and live because we were put here on this earth to feel joy, and you should keep it for as long as you can._

_But then again, that's why I've written this letter, because there's something that you should know about... something going on that robs you of this joy from time to time and leaves you in a bad place; which is why I ask that you continue reading. I came to this town in search of an ex-boyfriend of mine named, Teru Mikami; he used to live in Kanto Japan, we dated for 3 months before he moved back to his hometown in Silent Hill without saying a word to me._

_I was more heart broken then I ever thought I could be over someone and so when receiving a letter from him I came out here. From day one I found the place weird and unsettling but that was just my opinion since the town's people seem happy- minus the light paranoia. I've learned so much from being out here that I thought the way to help you all was to bring in groups and swarms of people who could make positive changes to Silent Hill but I was wrong. The darkness in this city would have eaten them alive._

_So as I sit here in the dark, with a man I've come to love, I realize the answer isn't in bringing in more people but in reaching the people trapped inside to free them of the curse they've been placed under._

_10 years ago there was a cult that met once sometimes twice a week to contact the dead through a method of inhaling a hallucinagenic plant called White Claudia. Whether or not it worked in the way they wanted it to only they know for sure, but that group led this town to its complete destruction._

_One night, when the S.H.P.D. raided their usual hang out, the members went into an abandoned steelmill to continue their ritual. Using the herb once was enough but they decided to light up again and it made them insane. They attacked each other savagely, some died, others took their instability out on the location knocking over wires and melted drums of steel that were heating as they rampaged through the night; someone had accidently turned it on. The machines were old and it gave easily to its own weight. The entire place melted down and explosions started from the pressure reaching critical. Bombs shot through the air landing in every direction it could, destroying anything it touched._

_Central and old town lit up in an inferno as the town lay sleeping in their beds. Some woke up from the noise and tried to escape only to meet their end upon arrival. Streets were broken, homes caved in, the one's with gas stoves exploding. The fire department tried to put out the fires but it was simply too much for them and they too were taken by the flames._

_Everyone... all of you... men, women, and children... you're all dead. None survived and nothing stood. The place you live in now, is a world you remember but its all a dream brought on by the shock of your own death covering your eyes to it._

_The scent of White Claudia coating your air, tourist breathe it in and end up like yourselves if they can't get free before a black hole sweeps the town back into its slumber only to have you wake and live it all over again. The outskirts were no better on that night as a madman single handedly reduced the residents within it to nothing days at a time. But the big score happened on the night of the fire when he murdered the apartment building he lived in before finally killing his self. They all slept, they knew nothing. Even his beloved brother was no match for the infection eating away at his sanity, and that infection fed off the darkness and the fear making him all the more terrifying._

_L, I'm sorry, but its true. Before killing himself, you're brother killed you. I'll miss you, L, and I will always love you. As I said, I came here in search of an ex-lover whom I placed in a great deal of pain and upon freeing him, I freed myself._

_I want now, to free all of you, so that you can move on to the next life and stop repeating this one. But, as for me. I have to ask myself how I feel? What I want? I am 29 year old journalist from Kanto Japan, Yagami Light..._

It was because of this letter that... everything changed. The ghostly town, once fresh with, technically, living breathing people, was now truly a ghost town. Mello returned to Silent hill Tuesday morning after receiving a letter from Light Yagami telling him that he'd planned on staying in the town with that advertizement agent named L.

L who apparently never saw the letter that dear Light wrote to the newspaper addressed to the entire town of Silent Hill... Matt hadn't either... infact, Matt was given a letter addressed to Light's said lover while Light and Near played crusaders of the other world.

Matt was never supposed to read it, but damn the gamer was a curious son of a bitch. And no sooner had he gotten through the last word on the page did he just stop existing. His beautiful, vibrant Matt... dead.

While Light Yagami chose to return to Silent Hill permanently to be with his new lover. Mello was pissed at first, no not pissed, enraged. How dare Light do what he did and then have the audacity to reach out to him? He told Light not to fuck with Matt but he had anyway... whether it was intentional or not. Every day he waited for his lover to call... and every day nothing came. Mello returned to Silent Hill, though, if only to maintain the memories of Matt.

But sometimes... he can swear he hears the tell-tale sounds of a handheld game being played. The tapping of the buttons, the sweeping soundtrack music. He'd even seen the glow of the little screen one night, passing through the hall of his apartment. The town itself wasn't shifting so rapidly anymore, it seemed genuinely sated with the fresh meat of Light Yagami's defeated need to stay with L.

Soon, some other poor sucker would come along... and the nightmare would start up all over again...


	8. Ending Two

A.N: Like Light's story 'The Taking Town' this has two endings, the chapter is the same but the end is different. You can choose one or read both, its up to you. Enjoy. Fantasy.

...

Mello and Matt searched the floor for Light but aside from an open window at the end of the hall, there was no sign of the male at all. "Where could he have gone?" Asked Matt when they met up on the second floor.

"Maybe he had somewhere to be?" Replied Mello.

He knew better, sure, Light could be on the other side with as much White Claudia as he's inhaled. But there's also a good chance he wasn't that far under and is now somewhere sleep walking. That could be far more dangerous than being swept up. That puts you in the real world but you're moving around as if you're in the other. That's how normal people get shot. That's how you get hit by a car and believe it to have been a monster. Dead as half the town is, you still exist as if you were in any normal world. And Mello can't imagine what jail must be like, if the abandoned prison beneath the History Museum is anything to go by, that's where the real coocs hang out.

"Alright," Throwing his hands up, he plops them down onto his lover's shoulders. "I know you're gonna leave tomorrow, but maybe you could spend some of the day with me before you go?"

"Doing what?"

"I have a job,"

"Yeah, that thing at the police station, you do that at night. I can't go."

"No, not that job. Someone hired me to make a mural at the old elementary school."

"You draw?"

"Constantly." He traces his finger along Mello's neck, used to the burn that runs a little along the path to his shoulder.

He wondered how it had gotten there, but Mello claims that it was from a fire that happened at his old apartment. And Matt is very sure that no such fire took place, so he leaves it alone now. However it got there, Mello believes its none of his business and it shall remain so.

"What do you think I'm doing to you everytime we're naked?"

Being smart, Mello smirked then said. "Getting over a childhood issue with touching people."

And he poked him in the gut. "I'm drawing tattoos, you dick." Smiling, he places a kiss to the blond's neck. "You really should let me give you one, I'll get the mirror image of it."

"Yeah, trust you with a needle near me... sounds like a bad idea."

"I may be a lot of things, but I don't do injections."

"Mhm." He starts down the hall for the elevator. "I'll be there, but don't expect me to help you with anything. I can't even draw stick figures without making one limb longer than the other, and if you want a face on it, it'll come out microscopic."

Matt laughed at the idea of a large head with a tiny body and even smaller facial features.

Wrapping his arms around his lover's waist, he follows him back to his apartment.

...

Sunday morning 5:22 a.m. He and Matt are in Old Town up by the elementary school. He hasn't seen Light since yesterday night when the male came over looking for help with his Mikami problem. Although, from what Matt's said, it would seem Light has found someone else in town to occupy his time. He said he was going out with some guy named L.

Ssssskiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiii! Rattles sound after this, followed by another. Sssskiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

Matt's humming kept Mello focused from drowing in his own thoughts. It sounded like he were humming some sort of nursery rhyme. Maybe 'This Old Man' or something close to that. Weird thing about it; and believe it when he says he wanted to ignore it, is that Matt's humming would sometimes sound like more than one person. He could even swear he heard words along with it. But when looking at the red head, he'd see nothing but tightly pressed lips while he focuses on the task at hand. Leaning against his lover's car, he cocks his head to take in what of the mural had been done. He's painting a bunch of kids, holding hands and skipping. Matt's been at this for some time since there are already three kids of ethnicity done already. The next kid looked like he were going to be white.

"Can you believe this school is going to reopen?" The artist says randomly.

"Why was it closed?"

"Some kid was disposing of his classmates- at least- that's what rumors say." Matt shrugged. "Anyone who survived the onslaught said it was a classmate named Beyond."

"Like the serial killer?"

"Mhm. One other girl called him... shit, it was on the news all the time back then. Why can't I remember the name?"

Mello smiled at Matt as he scratched his head in thought over all his tour guide tales. His teal gaze followed the buildings length to the front door. He perked up when he spotted someone beyond the glass window of the double doors peeking out at him. Shooting a glance to Matt who was firing off names that might sound close to or possibly be the culprit's other name, Mello pushed himself from his lean on the hood of the car and started for the door. It was a stretch that it was an actual person who'd been peeking at him, but like he said, since Light went ahead and fucked everyone over by snagging Mikami from his position in this world the darkness comes and goes as it pleases.

So where it could be a man, it could also be a monster. He touched his lower back to be sure his guns are with him. The metal, warmed by his body heat, pressed deeper into his skin on contact. Shoving his hands against the long thick bar attached to the door, he pressed his weight into it, surprised that it gaveway to his advancement. He felt an instant chill run up his spine once the thick metal door closed behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he made a mental note that he can't see Matt from where he is, but from a window he'd have perfect view of the red head. If he can still see Matt outside, he should be alright while looking around.

He had a pretty fucked up dream a month back. He woke up to the smell of smoke, it was suffocating his lungs, and stinging his eyes. He slammed himself into this wall and that- he was trapped in a cell! A small, concrete room that seemed to be almost a little niche in the wall. The only thing that gave him hope was the door before him, it had a small round window in it. Surely someone would pass by and see him inside.

"Help! Help me!" He'd banged on the metal door, screaming and coughing.

There were people outside of the door in a larger room, all watching him through the glass, but none close enough to see the anguish on his face. Where the smoke was coming from, he didn't know. But when it got hot, the panic really sank in, and he screamed and hollered, and even went as far as to slam himself into the door.

Hoping his weight would push it open, but it dawned on him that he was shorter than usual. Very short, kid short. Was he a child? He stood on his tip toes to try to catch his reflection in the window, and to his horror he saw that it was not his face reflecting back at him, but Matt's! As if the realization made it all the more real, his body moved on its own accord standing up and moving over to the window again.

"Mommy! Mommy! Help me!" He cried as he banged on the glass.

A woman made eye contact, but looked away as tears fell from her eyes. Flames licked at his back just then, and smacking himself against the door, he felt the panic, he felt the heat, he felt his throat tear as he screamed when the flames engulfed him.

When he woke up the next morning, he questioned Matt about his childhood, he both remembered and didn't remember it very clearly. He was seven when his mother dropped him off at his grandmother's, said she just scooped him up and headed off as if they were hiding out and running away from something. He never questioned it, just knew that he'd never seen his mother again after that.

Being in this school foyer felt a lot like that dream. Sufficating and ominous. Only he isn't asleep. He hasn't been smoking anything other than nicotine. And he has two guns in the ready incase there's trouble. So he felt strength brace him as he shoved open the door that would put him directly in the school building. Even in daylight it was strangely dark inside; Mello looked from left to right wondering which way the intruder would go.

The white tiled linolium floor is polished pretty nicely, for the school to be abandoned. They really must be prepared to re-open it. Even the wooden counter-esque desk in the front office has a nice finish to it. It was weird that a slew of paperwork remained scattered and untouched about the little opened room. As if the place had just opened its eyes to being inhabited again, and returned everything to the way it was before anyone had ever left it. But why would a school just be up and abandoned due to a seriel killer? Wouldn't he just follow his classmates to the next building?

A huge white light caught Mello's peripheral vision, he turned his head in time to see a large white ball drift from one of the rooms down the hall and out through the ceiling. Shortly after that a kid emerged from inside; he has white hair- snow white hair! He looks about 12 years old, maybe younger, Mello had to ponder this when the boy turned his head and looked his way; smirking, he floored it through a pair of double doors.

"Wait!" Hurrying after the kid, he nearly collides with the door it slammed in his face so abruptly. Grabbing the long bar, he gave it a tug but it didn't give. The kid locked it! "What the hell?" Turning his head to the room the young boy had just exited, he spots a woman in the corner, her face and body pressed into the wall where the two ends meet.

Opening the door, a quick glance around he identifies that its a nurses' office; and the slumped form in the corner is the school nurse. "Hey, lady." Striding over to her, he grabs her by the shoulders. "Are you alright?"

But when he turned her around, he sees that her eyes are completely blank, whited over, devoid of anything that ever was or ever would live again. He pondered calling the police, getting an ambulance for her or something. Did that kid do this? And how? It didn't seem possible to just... what- rob a body of its soul, and sight? Mello laid the woman out down on the floor. It was the least he can do than to have her pressed into the wall like some old prop from a movie. Walking back through the room, he came upon the double doors again.

Raising his leg, he slammed his booted foot into the jamb of the doors; it rattled hard before it gave on the second kick and the doors knocked open. The hall houses a few doors that undoubtedtly were classrooms. Problem was where, had that kid run off to?

"I'm not a bad guy..." He spoke to the air. "So, you don't have to worry. Just come on out, and I'll see that you get home." Mello walks up the hall peeking into the thin rectangle window panes for movement. He saw none. Damn. He should have followed him a lot faster.

Why would a young boy be walking around inside an abandoned school? Is he dead? Cursed to walk the school grounds forever... He's never seen it, but he's read about it once or twice. He and Matt were looking into it and ghost stories were aplenty from all over the world.

"Little boy!" He called out.

A door slammed from upstairs. Rushing to a row of stairs, he darts up the first seven, turns on the landing then sprints up the next eight to the second floor. Talk about a difference in interior. This part of school has seen better days. Its darker too; didn't the designer ever hear of having a window in the hall? Spotting a light switch he flips it up. Nothing. Down. Up. Down. Up. It was official, there is no electricity in this part of the building. Wonderful. And he didn't feel he needed to bring his penlight with him today either, because its daylight! Grabbing the knob of a classroom door, he pushes it open.

Walking in, he strolls across the spacious room: desk sit neatly in a row before the thick wooden desk in front of the classroom, the chalkboard still had an assignment written on it. Science. A tack-board even had drawings of plants and atoms stuck to it. A few lockers in back. A chair's legs screeched when he shoved it aside to make his way through the row of desks; getting to the window he looks down into the front yard, spotting Matt still down below spray painting, he lets out a relieved breath. Turning the lock over, he gives the window a tug but it won't open.

Muttering bitterly over the situation, he bangs his hand into the glass. "Matt! Matty!" He called down. The red head looked left, right, then up. "I'm up here! Look right!" He waved his arms in a scissoring motion to get the male's attention.

Taking a step back, Matt shields his forehead. "What are you doing in there?! Using the toilet?!"

He could barely make out what Matt said, but he called down anyway. "I'm chasing this kid! Did you see him come out?!"

Unsure of what it was that Mello had said exactly, Matt replied. "Just me!" He shakes his head. "Better get out of there, though, its supposed to be haunted!"

"Yeah right, you know I don't believe in that stuff!" He lied. Because with each passing month he was beyond a believer. He could re-write the books. "I'm gonna look around for the kid a little more, then I'll be right out!"

"Okay! Oh, and hey?!" He called up before Mello could disappear. "I remembered that kid's name! It was Dineas!"

"Din-ay-es?" Mello pronounced it. "Um, thanks! I guess..." Pulling himself back from view he then turns around. Maneuvering through the desk; his hand rest down atop one when a tight fit between two desks stopped his pace.

The unusual thing about it was that his palm was not met with a smooth surface as his brain was ready to transmit. It was bumpy... up-risen, and bumpy. Mello's back stiffened, his whole body frozen in place. His teal gaze slants, tracing from his boots, to the legs of the desk, to the corner of the desk, to where his hand is placed on the desk top... and there... beneath his hand... lay another. Jumping a foot sideways, Mello slammed into the chair and desk beside him, his hand recoiled from the desk top and landed on the rim of the seat beside him to keep him supported from falling to the floor. Widened eyes look at the offending area where the hand had been resting, but to Mello's surprise there wasn't anyone sitting there!

His breaths shudder from his nostrals and throat as he tries to calm his prickled nerves. He's seeing things, that's all. There was nothing there to begin with. How could there have been? "Oh god..." Mello let his weight sag into the seat he'd just knocked into. Placing his hands to his face, he closes his eyes waiting for his breath to steady. "I'm too fucking jumpy for this." He declared to no one.

At least, he thought he was alone... Mello didn't hear the soft foot steps creeping along the aisle of desks behind him. He didn't notice the wrinkled flesh colored mass moving his way; not until the knife in its hand raised and popped into the desk before reaching its full height. Mello looked over just in time to dodge the blade as it came swooping down on him. Hitting the floor, the condemed male reached for his guns before he could even get to his feet and upright himself to turn over. The creature had no hurry in the world, its pace was very even as he strolled through the obstructing desks to where its target lay scrambling.

The window was blocking off its main features since the early light of day was behind it, casting shadows over its front; but even with little amount of light Mello could tell that this thing wasn't human. It's naked, skin bubbled and burned up, the face was perhaps the most horrible part. Its eyes are goopy pockets from where the eyeball ruptured in the heat- if it were burned at all, that is- the nose gone, ears gone, and the mouth was deformed shut but it twisted and knotted around as if it wanted to open up and speak but the only thing that came out was some weird dolphinesque sound, or maybe a dozen broken jack-n-the-boxes all being cranked at once under water.

The knife scraped against another desk when the child-sized creature tried to strike Mello again. He was literally being cornered; doing little to stand himself upright and instead was scooting his heels against the floor backing himself against the wall. Taking aim, he opened fire... He thought one shot to the head would drop it easy, but the creature seemed deathless and it only roamed closer. How was that possible?! Everything could be taken out by a shot to the head! Everything!

Firing again, this time in the body, he at least saw that it could be hurt when it staggered back a step from the force of the bullet hitting organs and tugging it. Mello emptied an entire clip into the thing before finally, it fell to the floor; head down right between his leather clad legs. Mello sagged right along with his escaping breath. Shifting uncomfortably when the oozing blood squished beneath his legs and butt. Raising a knee up, he opens his eyes to make sure he had something to hold onto to help him up so that he wouldn't slip; and an odd movement from the monster caught his eye. It wasn't about to get up again? Was it? The doctors and nurses from the hospital crossed his mind, the one from the hall in particular.

Standing, Mello loomed over the child-sized thing and slammed his boot down hard into the wriggling worm in its back. He stomped the thing until the pool of blood almost covered the entire back of the room. Holding onto the protruded trim of the tack board for help, Mello takes a step out of the mess. A chill ran up his spine, like it would if a window were left open during a cold and windy winter day.

The lockers in the back of the room began to rattle and shake as if a caged animal were inside them; and if that weren't creepy enough sounds of screams filled his ears, hollow and echoing around like it were reverb from another room and its coming from a ventalation shaft rather than being here in the room with him. He didn't wanna look. Mello didn't wanna see what was coming. But when the corner locker popped open, Mello's head turns to look over his shoulder. Curiosity is a bitch and it grabbed him by the ankles nicely and firmly to have him actually stay in a place where he knows activity is about to happen.

His eyes nearly popped out of his head when bony, pale, long fingers wrapped around the edge of the door like they could reach the other edge. It was in slow motion. The air thickened and chilled over when a boot lowered to the floor, covered in blood, the black pants tattered and worn, a blood stained long white coat- no, not a coat... it looked more like a straight jacket. Mello lost his footing when he tried to run... he had to get away! Because exiting the locker was the man in the woods! The one who'd helped topple his car from the cliffside; his red eyes practically glowed they were so severe, even from that distance they were present.

Mello grunted when his hands and knees hit the bloody mess on the floor; humiliation a thing of the past, he crawled his way to the door and pulled it open. There was the option of shooting him, but he emptied his clip into that kid only minutes before. That kid tried to knife him, what would this guy do? Horrified, he watched from a stooped and poised to run position from the door as the man from the woods lurked over the dead body; his head bobbed from left to right as if he were drunk and trying to see something with a clear mind.

A large purplish welt lumped out from the side of his head at the temple, then another and another until this long- almost snout-like- protrution covered his entire head like a fucked up version of The Man in the Iron Mask. The monster salivated while leaning over the corpse, and the sick thing of it was that Mello heard crunching sounds mixed in with the slurpy squelch of tearing flesh. He's eating it! That picture didn't need to be painted anymore vivid and Mello flew from the classroom dodging a bunch of squeaking black mist that flew out along with him, like kids let out to recess or mist from a spray bottle. Just an unruly flurry of escape. The huddled mass in the classroom, the corpse... it was screaming... Mello made his way out of the building as quickly as he could.

He would never unknow the things that went down inside. Never stop hearing the children singing, like they were playing jump rope, about a child who butchered people as he burst through the double doors into the foyer. "Matt! Matt!?" Whirling, he wondered where the hell that guy had run off to. He never said to leave. Checking his watch, he notes the time. 6 o'clock a.m. Where would Matt go at a time like this? Rubbing his face, he sprints up the road towards the dump. He needs something strong to drink.

...

Its late Sunday morning, around nine o'clock, which is much too late for what was about to go down in Old Town. Mello still had a long trip back home to get started on, but he found himself conked out for a mid-morning nap at the dump. He didn't realize how tired he was after the school episode until he landed on the couch in the shed. When he woke up, he figured he may as well work a little since Matt took off on him, he could just leave for home directly after; Matt would understand since it wouldn't be the first time he's left Silent Hill without a physical goodbye. And when a car began to familiarly stalk him, Mello couldn't seem to shake the habit of being a nice guy, so he pulled the dump truck to a stop.

Looking out the window he rolled his eyes before exiting the car; the blue jump suit felt like loose skin on his thin frame. "What is it now? I helped you out, so get lost."

"Be lucky I don't put a bullet in your head." Light snaps while exiting his car as well. "Do you realize that I jumped out of a window to the next building? If L hadn't seen me, I could have fallen to my death!"

"How is it my fault that you started moving? I tied you down!"

"No, you tied me up. And seeing how that turned out, I'm lucky you didn't tie me down because I could have died right there when the ceiling came down into the burning room I woke up in."

Mello's teal eyes widen in shock. "You... saw the fire? Where's Matt?" Concerned and worried that Light might have done something stupid to get Matt killed, he steeled himself to the idea of knocking the man unconscious and tossing him into the trash with the rest of the burnables.

He knows Matt grew up in this town, and he knows that bad things happen when you remind the town that something is up. These thoughts began to dawn on him while he was walking back to the dump site. Maybe that freaky little child he's been seeing is the one landing all those bodies in the metal trash cans lining the street. He could be... he could be releasing souls like one of those damn priest in the movies. He can't let that happen. Light was only supposed to be looking for Mikami. What's changed?

"At the station in Central, he's with L."

The tension leaves him instantly. "So then what do you want? Didn't you find Mikami?"

"I did, but I couldn't talk to him. I came back here to speak with Near and see if he can tell me what I did wrong."

Mello's gaze follows Light's as he looks down the road to where Levin street is. "Then what did you stalk me for?" Wonders the blond.

"Do you have any White Claudia on you?" He got to the point. No, 'just missed you' or 'heard you were in the neighborhood, and wanted to say, hi'.

"Yeah." He looks Light over suspiciously. "Why do you need it?"

"I need to go back." He starts for his car; and talking over his shoulder, he makes sure that Mello is listening. "This time I will free Mikami of this place, but I need your help getting to the otherside again."

Mello stared after Light's retreating back, then with a roll of his eyes he says a hefty. "Fine. But this is the last time." Walking back to his truck he waits for Light to lead the way to this Near's place, and he follows.

It was like some sick, ongoing, joke. This Near that Light spoke of, was the kid he'd been seeing here and there whenever he went to the other world. He's all and 4'11", white hair, very dark gray eyes that look black. His face was deadpanned to an art form, and he looked both Light and Mello up and down with all the scrutiny in the world.

"Mistake number one was getting tied up." Cocking a thin grayish brow, he asks. "Mello was it? You could have gotten Light killed by that stupid mistake; but then you didn't really know so, it really isn't your fault." Walking into his home, the boy assumed them to follow and he takes a seat on the couch; his hand reached to start up a fire engine that's on the coffee table.

"Who are you calling stupid?" Barks the blond watching the child play with his toy as if he's the only one in the room.

"The mistake." Says Near. "Do you consider yourself a mistake, Mello?" He asks calmly.

Light couldn't help but hide a snicker at the comment. From anyone else it would have come off as an insult, but from Near it just sounded as if he were talking to no one in particular.

Mello grit his teeth, fist balled.

"Did you manage to talk to Mikami?" Near focused now on Light, seeing that he'd won round one with the stranger in the situation.

"No." Light hung his head. "I did see him, though, the place where he died- its in the tower at the bridge."

"Hmm." He intones thoughtfully.

"So, what was the problem." Near is quiet a moment, then replies. "It seems that Mikami is bound in two places. Here and where you sent him after he'd missed the reset in those three months he was with you in Kanto."

'So he was the one that started the rift between here and there.' Thinks Mello glaring at Light for making his life a living hell.

This world is growing darker and darker each passing day and its all because of this nosy reporter from Japan. The time within here and there was shortening with each snow fall. Pretty soon the whole damn place will be nothing but a moving cemetery- well, of the worst kind. Seeing them as people will no longer be possible, there will be nothing but charred human's walking the earth, or those creepy headless things in the outskirts. He never understood what went on there and he didn't want to know. Having to clean up dead bodies that appear in trash cans after this Near person frees the soul from this place was enough to keep him busy for months and years. He had always wondered how it were possible for those bodies to show up. Now he knows for sure. But honestly, he never expected this kid.

The guy on the flyer was kind of a double take, but Mello just figured the flyers were some sort of reflection of the kids inner-self, a drawing, air-brushing; people wanna look good right? Mello had to mentally slap himself for complimenting the kids looks, his gaze snapping away when he caught Near watching him.

Smirking, the albino child then turns his attention back to Light. "We'll have to recover where his soul drifted to in order to get him back on the right course, once we do that you can speak freely to him; I don't need to tell you about the urgency in the matter. Only say what needs to be said, don't expand your time with him longer than it needs to be."

"I won't." Light sure sounded unsure of that.

Mello could tell that, like himself, he'd gone through something this morning and it hit him hard. He was hit pretty hard himself at the school. Digging into the pocket of his jumpsuit, Mello holds out a white stick to the child. "Here. Its the only one I have, so you'd better do this right."

"Thanks. But I won't be needing that." Damn the kid could act smug. "I can get there on my own, and I'll be taking Mr. Yagami with me."

Cocking a brow, Light parts his lips to speak but it seemed that Near was already ahead of him in thought.

"The reason I sent you to them is so that you could take care of the matter on your own; as I've told you, when we'd spoke before, you and I share a gift for seeing spirits. Only difference is that we can communicate with them, whereas others can't. You, Light Yagami, are a novice and can't manipulate the worlds as I can, so I have to help you. The reason I didn't do so in the first place is because I've never tried it with another person before" And he ignored Mello's scoff to the unspoken underlying sentence. "and it may not have worked."

"Its fine, I'm ready to go whenever you can take us there."

Listening, Mello takes that as his insentive to go. "If that's settled then I'm-..."

"No." Near says tightly. "You have to stay here. Mr. Watari, my aid, is gone for the day and I need you to watch our bodies while we're on the other-side. If we look too banged up, you'll have to wake us up manually if I can't find a way to pull out."

The two sit in a dead-locked gaze of 'are you shitting me' versus 'do as I say'. It was Mello to break contact first by walking over to an arm chair and dropping his weight down into it, he lounges in it as if it were his own; one leg draped over the arm of the chair the other leg to the floor, leaving him to look shamelessly splayed out for sex or something close to it.

"Just see that he does it this time. Yagami seems as bright as a wet sheet of paper."

"To give paper any intelligence at all leaves your own questionable." Standing from his seat, he stands before Light.

The boy missed it when Mello flipped him off as a retort. He watched as the journalist caught his breath when the child's hands come up to his temples.

"Put your arms around me."

Doing as he's told, Light wonders out loud when he notices the cock in Mello's brow. "Will this help?" He clearly felt weird holding onto an eighteen year old that looks like a fourteen year old.

"No. But I don't wanna hit the floor when we cross over." His dark grey eyes close and he breathes in deeply taking in Light's scent of sex, and natural body odor. When his senses and mind are swimming, he can feel his spirit pushing forward from his body.

Mello watches, mouth parted in shock seeing a white mist leave the child's form to go into Light's body. How can any of this be real?! If he didn't see half the things he's seen being here, he never would have allowed himself to believe this. When Near's body wilts into Light's both men remain clutched in each others arms, slumped on the couch.

Cocking his head, Mello though that the angle looked really uncomfortable and it had the chaperon wondering about moving them. He need only to lift Light's legs to lay across the couch anyway. Getting up from his seat on the armchair he stoops down and grabs the man's legs, with a grunt of complaint from the weight of legs that are officially dead-to-the-world, he moves the man's legs to rest along the length of the couch; glad when the young boy's body moved right along with the action. Although the journalist isn't that much older than himself, he looked like a father sleeping with his child in his arms.

Smiling at the thought of times he'd take a nap in his mother's arms, he returned to his place back on the armchair and pulled a candy bar from his pocket to eat while he waits. He only hoped this little trip didn't take long. He can already feel the other world scratching at the thin layer of normalcy this town allows.

Standing, he walks over to the window to look up at the sky. Clear and grey so far. Mello wondered if this was Near's doing? The kid has freaky powers that no one but the kid himself is aware of the real inner workings of. The air is so thick. Would he be pulled in unintentionally while the two of them are over there in complete control? Would he be left here, fending for himself while having to protect their bodies? Near sure made it sound that way. But everything seemed quiet for the time being. Turning, he walks back to the couch; eyeing the pair.

Light grunted in pain; and a bit of blood trickled from the child's knee, the long red trail slid all the way to his foot and the droplets fell from his toes. How was this method safer exactly? Mello can only stare in horror as blood stains Light's arm, he's even more shocked by the tear of blood running down from the man's closed left eye.

He reached out to shake them, wake them up- after all, he had agreed to watch them- but maybe they were handling things, roughly, but handling it. Last thing he wanted was more lip from the brat and angst from the grieving journalist. Better to just leave them alone. Retracting his hand, he chose pacing to occupy his time. It was an hour later when something slammed into the front door; Mello gasped out of surprise but quickly removed his revolver from the pair of jeans he's wearing under his blue work suit. Crouching beside the couch, poised to kill, he waits for whatever it is to get through the door.

The pounding was steady enough to get in time with the ticking hand of the clock that counts off seconds in the background of every home. Just when Mello was sure the creature would enter, the attempts to get inside subsided and the room grew quiet. Releasing his breath in a slow stream from his mouth, he looks at the sleeping pair wondering for the umpteenth time just how long it was going to take for the journalist to say goodbye.

The next hour came, and even from his place on the floor beside the sleeping pair he could see the snowing ash falling from the sky. The home seemed to be making itself comfortable in a memory of a former family because the couch suddenly disappeared from beneath Mello's elbow.

He swayed, but didn't fall over like some comical cartoon character who suddenly has the floor vanish from beneath him. It didn't end there, though, many things moved and shifted about the room. It was as if Silent Hill were at war with itself and couldn't decide whether it were 1997 or 2011. The coffee table went from a glass surface to wooden. It was making Mello's head spin. Twice Light and Near vanished from the room, to where, he was unsure but they would come back no worse for wear than when they had gone.

Noises from the bedroom kept Mello on high alert; but he's only one man and could not watch every aspect of the home. It was when he stood up to give his crouching legs a break from falling asleep beneath him that he was hit straight in his back by what felt like a brick while it actually had no physical form.

Mello's body moved on its own, literally it took him across the room to the kitchen where he grabbed a dish towel, wet it in the sink, and had him hurrying back through the living room where he was knocked unconscious by what felt like falling debris. Much like the possession that took over him, Mello didn't see what hit him, but he felt it. His staggering body toppled him onto the armchair where he remained knocked out cold, unaware of anything and anyone around him...

It was Near who woke him when the child jumped up from his unconscious state and violently started beating on Light's knocked out body. "Light, wake up! Wake up!"

Roused from his sleep, Mello sees that its completely dark outside from when the sun just went down, or maybe its been dark for a while! "What's going on?"

"Something happened, Light might be stuck." Near shouted to Mello when seeing his movements. "Help me wake him up."

Mello deadpanned, the pipsqueak medium had to be kidding? How many times was this guy gonna screw himself over, and fuck everyone else in the process? "No! Do you know what time it is? Yagami is on his own."

"Then take him with you when you leave. He can't get stuck here- go now!"

Mello was a bit taken aback by the sentimentality because, since meeting the kid, it was the most emotions he's shown. It was kind of sweet that he cared that much really. It had Mello question just how well the two knew each other. But he was sick of being bossed around by a child; regardless, he rolled his eyes as he caught himself gathering the man up from the couch, with help from the younger male. If he gets stuck here... he'll see to it that both of their souls are eaten by that gluttonus reaper so he'll, hopefully, never see either of them again.

The siren starts blaring overhead when the front door flew open. The air has thickened with ash and black as they cross the yard swiftly to get to Light's car. At this point it will move a lot faster than a garbage truck. Pulling a handgun from the waistband of his pants, he fires at a hellhound rushing their way. The dog howled when the bullet plowed through its brain and out the other side.

Keeping his eyes peeled, the two load the spellbound man into the backseat. "Do you need a ride?" He snaps at the child, stress evident in his entire being right then. Closing the door once Light is secured, he crosses around to the driver's side.

"Don't bother with me, just get him out of here." Mello starts the car; he could feel the medium's dead-gaze on them the entire drive up the street. He was probably thinking the same thing that was going through his own mind. Will they make it out?

1 month later...

Mello didn't know whether or not if he wanted to kiss the crow or kill it for kawing so loudly as it went by. If he hadn't heard the bird who really knew how long he'd of been passed out in the forest. His eyes slowly open, but he does not move a muscle. He didn't know if anything was broken or not, so why make it worse by rapidly moving about when he could slowly assess the situation of his person. With a groan his limbs move, arms bending, knees... all of them responded properly to his command, and his back isn't broken either.

Sitting up, he rubbed his throbbing head trying to massage the pain away. An eye winks closed when his vision trails up into the trees. He sees that the sun is shining overhead through branches as thick as five of his gaunt body hugged up together. Moving his massage down from his head to his aching shoulder he pushed up from the ground. Walking, well, hobbled really, over to the wreckage of his rental car. From the occasional sting here and there he could tell that he's bleeding from aquired cuts, but he couldn't worry about that right then; it doesn't feel too serious anyway- considering the drop; he glanced off to his side and up noting the distance. He'd say he got damn lucky he was still alive. Maybe too lucky for such a drastic fall. There's a good chance he's dead, but then... the dead don't feel pain now do they?


End file.
